Perfectly Logical
by EstellaDoreaBlack
Summary: Tasha Yar has a burning ambition: to join Starfleet. But circumstances beyond her control seem determined to keep her dream from coming true. In order to beat the odds, she'll need a friend. A friend who can see her for who she really is.
1. Chapter One: Not Starfleet Material

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

**This story is rated K+ for language and possible minor violence in later chapters.**

**This story is a spin-off of my other story "Big Doors", but you don't have to read that one to understand this one. This story will, however, follow the "Big Doors" AU at the point where said story deviates from canon.**

_**Chapter One: Not Starfleet Material**_

"I'm sorry, Miss Yar, but we cannot accept your application to Starfleet Academy."

"What? Why not?" Seventeen-year-old Tasha Yar could practically see her dreams evaporating in front of her.

"It's your record. History of drug abuse and mental instability leading to sexual addiction, difficulties managing anger appropriately - you're not exactly Starfleet material."

"Most of that is lies, Commander. I never had a sexual addiction, and I've been off drugs for four years. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself."

"I also see a tendency towards insubordination and defience. Good day, Miss Yar."

"Wait! Is there anything I could do to get into the Academy even with my record?"

The commander sighed. "Fairness demands that I tell you that if you could find a commissioned Starfleet officer with at least a rank of full lieutenant to sponsor your application, we would be obligated to review your application along with this officer's letter of recommendation. But seriously, with your record, you'll never find someone willing to stake their reputation on you. I advise you to just give it up now. _Good day, Miss Yar_."

He terminated the link, and Tasha slumped over the computer console, fighting back frustrated tears. The door opened, and a staff member stepped in.

"I see you're not talking anymore. What are you still doing here?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Stand up straight!" He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her off the console.

"Yes, sir."

He grabbed her chin and forced her face up. "Are those tears?"

"No, sir."

"Miss Yar, what's Rule Number Seven?"

"We Do Not Lie." Tasha knew the rules by heart; everyone there did. It was expected.

"Then I'll ask you again: are those tears?"

"Yes, sir." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"What's Rule Number Nineteen?"

"Tears Are For Babies."

"Right you are. So you've broken two rules in two minutes, not to mention remaining in the comm room after your communication was terminated. And you lied to the commander, that's another infraction."

"I apologize for my disrespect." The apology, like the rules, was rote, learned.

"I'm afraid that's not going to be enough this time. I'm putting you on discipline for a week."

Tasha's lips paled slightly, but all she said was "Yes, sir."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha curled up on a corner of the hard bunk, her back hurting from the physical punishment inflicted on her and her stomach aching from hunger. On discipline, in addition to being forced to write lines and being forbidden to speak to any other students, instead of regular meals she would receive a nutritional drink every other day. It was enough to keep her from suffering malnutrition but not nearly enough to satisfy her hunger.

Not that hunger wasn't familiar to her. On her home colony, she'd had to scavenge for food constantly, and if she couldn't find it, she'd had to do without. But in some ways this was worse. On Turkana, at least she could look for food and hope to find it. But here, she couldn't do anything about her hunger except bear it.

She allowed herself to recall the five weeks of heaven that had existed her life of hell. She had been rescued from Turkana by an angel, a woman named Katherine Pulaski, and brought onto a ship called the _Saratoga_. It was there she had first learned of Starfleet. Her closest friend besides Katherine had been a twenty-year-old ensign named Ben, who'd delighted in telling her all about Starfleet and the Academy almost as much as he'd enjoyed trying to convince her to join up. Not that she'd needed much convincing; to her, Starfleet represented the antithesis of the hellhole she'd grown up in, and she'd wanted to wear the uniform even more than he had wanted her to. She'd dreamed of getting into Starfleet and getting the chance to serve with one or both of her dear friends.

But her application had been denied, and Ben and Kate had abandoned her. She hadn't heard from either of them since she'd been dropped off in the near-hellhole that was the Nebraska Center For Special-Needs Orphaned Youth. It wasn't Turkana, but it was close. The center had forty-seven rules, and breaking any one would lead to a rebuke at best, a punishment at worst. The counselors, instead of helping her get through her traumas, had found a way to blame every single one of them on her, putting into her file the very labels that had led to the rejection of her application to Starfleet Academy.

_Starfleet Academy_. She couldn't get the thought out of her head. If only her friends hadn't abandoned her - Katherine had been a lieutenant commander, and Ben had had a close friendship with the captain of his ship. Either Katherine or Captain Whatever-His-Name-Was could have written her the needed recommendation. But she was alone. Just like she'd been her whole life.

_Eight more months, eight more months_. The mantra running through her head was the only thing that kept her sane. In eight months, she'd be eighteen, no longer a child, and she would be able to leave the center. True, they'd probably just throw her onto the street, but she'd survived on the streets of Turkana IV. Surely she could survive on the streets of Earth.

xxxxxxxxx

"Great. Just what we needed."

Tasha hid behind the wall and listened to the staff members talk. She'd found it was the most effective way to get information about the outside world. No one else had ever been able to get away with it, but if there was one thing Tasha had learned on Turkana, it was how not to be seen.

"What's going on?" asked someone.

"Starfleet's running a training exercise out in the big field, the one we use sometimes. The city's rerouting all the transports around the area. It means that instead of taking twenty minutes to get to my sister's place, it'll take forty. They never reroute the transports for us."

The conversation continued, but Tasha didn't hear. Her heart was pounding with excitement. She'd been to the field for the center's "exercises" - their word for the brutal drills the students were subjected to - and she knew how to get there. It was only three miles away; she could get there on foot. She knew enough about Starfleet to know that no one would send an Academy group out without at least one officer in charge. Maybe if she spoke to someone in person, she'd be able to talk them into sponsoring her. True, the one commander - Jelly-something-or-other - hadn't been very keen to listen, but she'd met other Starfleet officers who were different. With any luck, she'd find one who would pay attention.

It was a risk, she knew. She'd be violating Rule Number One (The Center Is Our Home. We Do Not Leave Without Permission.), the single most serious rule in the book, and she was already on discipline, this time for simultaneously violating Rule Number Twenty-Five (We Do Not Yell) and Rule Number Eleven (We Are Civil In Counseling). But for the chance to be in Starfleet, she'd risk it. She'd risk anything.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha crouched in the corner of the field, where she could observe without being seen. Her luck had been amazing to this point. Running the exercise was not one officer, but rather about a dozen. Surely out of that many she could find one who was sympathetic.

She knew that interrupting training would be a bad way to start out, so she remained in her hiding place, waiting for them to take a break. She didn't really mind. It felt good just to be outside, to do what she pleased without worrying about consequences.

One of the officers blew a whistle, and everyone snapped to attention.

"Take lunch. I expected to see everyone back at exactly Thirteen-thirty hours, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The entire group chorused.

"Dismissed!"

The cadets who'd been training ran off in every direction. Tasha bit her lip, steeled herself, and stepped up to one of the officers.

"Excuse me, sir. Might I have a word with you?"

**I want to give a major shout-out to konarciq for helping me come up with this idea. When I first introduced the idea of Tasha having lived in the center, she pointed out that everything the counselors said about Tasha would make it hard for her to get into Starfleet. That's where I got creative. Originally this story was just a blurb in "Big Doors", but it's taken on a life of its own.**

**Some elements from Star Trek: Voyager will be making an appearance in this story. It is not necessary to know Voyager in order to understand the story, which is why I've filed this under TNG and not as a crossover, but it might give you another layer of insight. (Plus, it's an awesome show!)  
**

**Please Review.**


	2. Chapter Two: A Man of Logic

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Two: A Man of Logic**_

The man raised an eyebrow. Tasha noticed that the rest of the officers were standing nearby, clearly trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing there.

"Fire away," he said finally.

"My name is Tasha Yar. I want to join Starfleet, and I need an officer to sponsor my application."

"You're human, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you born on a Federation world?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why do you need a recommendation?"

"My application was rejected. They said I wasn't Starfleet material."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with admissions. If that's their decision, that's their decision."

"Please!" Tasha hated begging, but she was desperate enough to resort to it in this situation. "Just give me a chance. No one else ever has! How can they tell if I'm Starfleet material or not? They never even spoke to me until they told me I'd been rejected."

The officers still stood by, watching the strange girl argue with their comrade. It was clear that both sides were becoming more and more frustrated. After a good fifteen minutes during which neither side gave an inch, the officer finally stormed off in disgust.

Tasha turned and began trying to persuade each officer in turn, but each of them brushed her off. When she refused to be dismissed, they just got annoyed and refused more vehemently. It took all the strength she had to avoid breaking down in frustrated tears. Couldn't they understand how much this meant to her?

"You are being very persistent."

Tasha jumped and whirled to see another officer standing behind her.

"I apologize for my disrespect." The conditioned apology slipped from her lips before she was really aware that she was speaking.

"That was not meant as a criticism, simply an observation."

"Sir?"

"It would not be logical for you to be so persistent unless you were serious about this."

For the first time, Tasha noticed the shape of the man's ears. He was a Vulcan, she realized, guided solely by logic and reason. That might work to her advantage.

"Come, let us talk." He indicated that she should follow him.

He led her to a secluded area and indicated that she should sit. She did, without question.

"You said you wanted a chance to explain. I am listening."

"I grew up on a colony where the government had failed, and chaos was the law of the land. I was rescued by a Starfleet vessel. I have come to admire what Starfleet is, what it represents. I want to be a part of that. I want to enforce order, because I know what happens when it is lost. I've made mistakes, I admit. I've done things I'm not proud of. But when I left my home colony, I vowed that I would not let my mistakes define me, that I would rise above what I was and become something better."

"You do not believe that the mistakes of your past hold relevance."

"If they hold relevance, it is only because they have made me better. I never did anything out of a desire for trouble. No one who hasn't lived in that situation can understand. I did what I had to do to survive, and sometimes that wasn't pretty. I stole so that my sister and I could eat. I used drugs because it was the only thing that made the pain of living bearable, the only thing to stop me from killing myself. All that is associated with my past, and I will never do it again if only for that reason. I am no longer the frightened girl trying to survive in the streets, nor have I been for the past two years." She looked into his eyes and boldly made a statement that a notable Starfleet captain would make over a decade later. "If you're going to judge me, judge me for what I am now."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Impressive," he said finally.

"Sir?"

"You were open and honest about your past, even knowing that it might affect my response. You offered explanations, but you did not attempt to excuse your actions. You told me the truth instead of telling me what I wanted to hear. That is admirable. And your reasons for wanting to join Starfleet are far more noble and logical than many of the cadets who enter the academy. Starfleet needs officers with your sense of duty, service, and integrity."

"Then you'll sponsor me?"

"I will consider it. But I will need you to perform further tests before I make that commitment. I must have something to judge you on besides this interview."

"Anything you want, sir. I'll do whatever you ask."

"For now, I believe it is time for lunch. Have you eaten?"

"No, sir."

"Then accompany me. We can continue this conversation while we eat. There is a replimat nearby."

She forced her face to stay neutral. The idea of food was unbelievably tempting after having spent the past four days on discipline.

The replimat proved to be a small, out-of-the-way establishment ("The replimats on the main streets are often full to capacity at this time of day," the Vulcan explained.) Tasha ordered as much food as she felt she could without arousing his suspicion, and tried to eat as slowly as she could, resisting the urge to inhale her lunch. He didn't need to know she was starving.

"Excuse me, sir," she asked once she'd finished part of her meal, "what should I call you? I mean, besides sir. What should I call you that would make it clear I'm talking to you and not another officer?"

"I am Professor Tuvok."

Tasha nearly spat out the mouthful of juice she'd just taken. "You _teach_ at the academy?"

"Indeed."

"I didn't realize-"

"Would it have mattered?"

"If you mean would I have changed what I said to you, no, sir. I -" inexplicably, a line from a children's story she'd read once came to her, "I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. But all the same, I would've liked to have known."

"It changes nothing."

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

xxxxxxxxx

At first, even the fact that she was returning to the hated center couldn't quash the bubbling excitement inside of her. Just when she'd thought her dream of joining Starfleet was dead, it was suddenly within arm's reach. All she had to do was pass the tests, and she knew that Vulcans had an innate sense of fairness. He wouldn't put her through anything she couldn't handle.

But her enthusiasm began to fail as she got closer to the center. For a few seconds, she even considered not going back. But that idea was shoved aside as soon as it surfaced. For one thing, if she tried to run, they'd track her down. Even she couldn't hide from the kind of search they'd perform. That would only make things worse for her when she did go back.

But more importantly, there was the issue of Professor Tuvok. He'd respected her in spite of her record, and she felt that to go get in more trouble would be taking advantage of him. He was the closest thing she'd had to a friend in two years. She wasn't going to ruin that. Not for anything.

xxxxxxxxx

"Sit down."

Tasha obliged immediately.

"Rule Number One. Recite it."

"The Center Is Our Home. We Do Not Leave Without Permission."

"You violated that rule today."

"I had to. It was my only chance to-"

"Rule Number Nine?"

"We Do Not Make Excuses."

"That's two rules broken. And I wouldn't be surprised if you'd violated discipline too." He slammed a bucket down next to the chair, then injected her with a hypospray.

Instantly, she felt her stomach turn. She bent over the bucket, throwing up everything she'd eaten at the replimat. Instead of helping her, the man simply watched, a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

"As I thought. We both know the discipline sanctions."

Tasha nodded miserably, still heaving even though there was nothing left to throw up.

"So that's two months for Rule Number One, and five days for Rule Number Nine, and two weeks for violating discipline."

Tasha only nodded again, trying not to think about how hard it would be to do without real food for that long. She'd never gone hungry for almost three months straight, not even on Turkana.

"Kneel."

Tasha obediently got to her knees on the floor, pressing her forehead to the chair. He slid up her shirt, exposing her bare back.

She flinched when she heard the metal clink of him undoing his belt, but didn't dare make a sound or move. The belt struck the bare skin of her lower back, and she bit her lip hard. She refused to scream.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha curled up tightly in her bed, drawing her knees to her chin. She was hoping it would help ease the hunger pangs enough to let her sleep. After a week and a half on discipline, broken only by the one meal that had been forced back up, they'd become a familiar part of her life, but she couldn't get used to being hungry. Not even after twelve years of it.

But her heart was hurting more than her stomach. It had been six days since her last meeting with Tuvok, and he hadn't yet made the promised effort to make contact. For a few days, her dream had been within her grasp. Now she was beginning to see it slipping away again.

Maybe Starfleet officers weren't all they were cracked up to be. Every officer she'd ever met had abandoned her. She didn't matter at all to them.

That thought should, perhaps, have made her feel better about not being a part of that organization. But it didn't. It only made her feel worse.

xxxxxxxxx

"Miss Yar, there's someone here to speak to you." It was clear by the man's face what he thought about her receiving visitors. "Because it's about your future, the visit will be allowed. You will receive an additional day of discipline to make up for this visit."

"Yes, sir." That was hardly fair, considering that discipline sanctions were far broader than not being allowed to communicate, but Rule Number Forty-Seven was "We Do Not Question The Supervisors", and she'd get far more than one day for violating it.

He led her into a room and indicated to her to sit. A moment later, the visitor was escorted in. Her heart leaped. It was Professor Tuvok. He hadn't forgotten.

"Leave us, please."

The supervisor retreated, leaving Tasha alone with the Vulcan. She knew, of course, that they were being monitored, and nothing they would say was private, but it felt so good to be in the company of someone who wasn't a supervisor. Just seeing him again felt good.

"I'd started to think you'd forgotten about me," she admitted.

"I had not. I merely needed a few days to determine my exact course of action. I will need to test you over the course of several days in order to determine your worthiness to obtain my recommendation."

"I understand, sir."

"If you pass that test, you will need to take the entrance exam in three months. I believe you will need additional help in order to successfully complete it. I will provide the assistance."

"You will?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I do not believe you would be able to pass the exam without assistance, and it would be illogical to write a recommendation only to allow you to fail the exam because you are not prepared. Therefore yes, I will."

"You'll have to talk to the supervisors about taking me for testing and training."

"I will speak to them about the testing. However, I believe it would be more conducive to your training if you resided with me for the duration of it."

"Come and live with you?"

"It would be logical. Would it make you uncomfortable?"

"No, sir. It would make sense." If she'd been alone, she might have expressed her eagerness, but she didn't dare let the supervisors hear it. They'd only make her life worse until she left.

"I will return in two days to begin your testing. For now, I must go."

"Sir?" Her voice turned him back just before he left the room. "Thank you."

**Please review. Double bonus points to anyone who can identify the sources of the two quotes Tasha uses.  
**

**For all you Voyager fans, check out my Voyager oneshot "Rewind the Years."**


	3. Chapter Three: The Outcome

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Three: The Outcome**_

Impressed was a word that the Vulcan used sparingly. Nevertheless, it accurately described his opinion of Tasha Yar.

He had checked into her record, and he knew where she came from. He knew she'd had no formal education of any kind for the first fifteen years of her life. He knew she'd been picked up by a sympathetic doctor who hadn't even been able to bring herself to describe the horrors she'd seen on the abandoned planet. He knew what the counselors at NCFS-NOY had said about her. If he hadn't known, he never would have guessed.

Oh, it was there if one knew what to look for. She was old beyond her years, and when he looked into her eyes he could tell they'd seen more in fifteen years than anyone should in a lifetime. But her unceasing determination was the exact opposite of what one might expect of a girl who'd been dealt a losing hand in life. Instead of giving in, she fully intended to make something good out of a miserable life. Tuvok personally knew some admirals who could stand to learn a few things from this seventeen-year-old.

Over the past three weeks, he'd come to know her quite well. She still had a few more days of testing left but it was really a formality. Her performance so far had been exemplary.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she suddenly fell forward, crumpling to the grass. Instantly, he was at her side.

Her eyelids fluttered. "What happened?"

"You collapsed. Are you well?"

"I think so." Tasha knew perfectly well what had caused her to collapse, but she still had no intention of telling him about the situation she lived in. With long-practiced expertise, she had forced herself to ignore her hunger and not let it affect the tests, but it was getting harder and harder as time went on. She was glad the tests were almost over. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up her act. This fainting spell was just the first sign of this.

"Sit up slowly," he ordered. She complied, resisting the urge to put her face in her hands when her head started spinning.

"You appear to be suffering the effects of low blood sugar." Tuvok might have been a security officer, but he had enough medical knowledge to know that. "Have you been eating normally?"

"Yes, sir." It wasn't really a lie. She'd been on discipline for over a month now. It had become normal. "But I didn't eat this morning." Also true.

"You require food. Remain here and do not attempt to stand. I will bring you something."

"Sir, really, I'm fine." She forced the words through her lips. She was so hungry that it was nearly impossible to resist food, but every time she came back from one of her tests the supervisors injected her with the hypospray to make sure she hadn't eaten anything. She knew that if they found she had, she'd only receive additional punishment. Adding discipline time was hardly an issue for her: after all, with any luck she wouldn't be there long enough for it to matter. But the violation would also be punished by a beating, administered immediately upon their realization of her transgression.

"If you were fine, you would not have passed out. Remain here."

He returned a few minutes later with a sandwich and a chocolate bar. "Normally, I would not recommend chocolate as a source of nutrition, but you require additional sugar."

Tasha couldn't have cared less at that moment what he normally would or would not have recommended. Her resolve completely melted away as soon as he handed her the food. She gulped down both items fast enough to cause Tuvok to raise an eyebrow, but apparently he assumed he was just hungry from missing breakfast; at any rate, he didn't mention it.

She almost instantly felt better. The ache in her stomach that had been her constant companion for weeks was gone. Her head was starting to clear.

"Are you ready to continue testing?"

"Yes, sir." She jumped to her feet.

"Then let us continue."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha stiffened involuntarily when the supervisor pressed the hypospray to her neck. Just as she had a month ago, she doubled over, emptying her stomach of the first real meal she'd eaten in so long.

"I thought you knew better. You've stayed true to the discipline rules to this point. But now, this?"

"Sir, he made me eat, please!"

The supervisor slapped her. "Don't interrupt me! And what's Rule Number Nine?"

"We Do Not Make Excuses.

"Very good. You've become very defiant lately. Two weeks for violating discipline, five days for Rule Number Nine, and I think two more weeks for your attitude. Now kneel."

She did, trembling. The belt struck her back and she bit down hard on her lip. She had never screamed before and she didn't intend to now. But this time was different. He'd never hit her this hard or this many times.

"I don't like to do this to you, Tasha. But you leave me with no choice. You'll never survive in the real world if you don't learn to behave."

The irony of that statement was not lost on Tasha, who had lived in a place where the lawless flourished and the submissive suffered and died. But she didn't mention it. That would be seen as more defiance.

"You're excused."

Tasha rose, trying to stay upright through the pain. She managed to get to her room before she collapsed, weak and shaking, on the floor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't manage to muster the strength to get to the bed.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the verdict. The testing was over. This was the day she'd find out if it had been enough.

The last few days of training had been excruciating. The injuries from her last beating hadn't healed as quickly as usual, she assumed they'd been worse to start with. She was worn-out now from working despite her injuries and she still hurt.

Tuvok didn't mince words or beat around the bush. "You have performed adequately over the past few weeks. I have decided that you are worthy of my recommendation."

Despite her agony and exhaustion, she felt herself overwhelmed with joy. "Thank you, sir."

"As promised, I will now assist you to prepare for the exam. How much time do you require to prepare to move?"

"I don't need time. I'm ready to move as soon as you're ready to have me."

"I will require two days to prepare. I will come for you the day after tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting, sir."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha sat impatiently in the same office in which she always waited for the Professor. The last two days at NCFS-NOY had felt like two weeks. It didn't help that the verbal abuse from the supervisors had increased with their realization that she was leaving. She hadn't been beaten again, she wasn't exactly sure why.

The professor walked in and Tasha had to keep herself from leaping up in excitement.

"Are you prepared to depart?"

"Yes, sir." She lifted her bag from the floor. It only contained a few items: she'd owned nothing on Turkana and acquired little on Earth to this point.

"Then let's go."

Tasha wasn't sorry in the slightest to leave. She spent the first part of the transport ride staring out the window, marveling at her freedom. It was a good fifteen minutes in before she verbalized the question that had been in the back of her mind.

"Sir - where do you live? What's it like?"

"I was expecting this question earlier. It is somewhat secluded - I do not believe it is good for my children to be too close to the noise and chaos of the city."

She stared, open-mouthed. "You have children?"

"Is that so difficult to believe?"

"I - no, it's just that when you said I'd be living with you, I assumed that you lived alone. I don't want to impose on your family, sir."

"If it would be an imposition, I would not have offered it. My wife and children have been made aware that you will be coming, and they have not expressed any objections. I assumed, considering the fact that you resided in a collective center, that you would not object either. Was I incorrect?"

"No, sir. You were right."

xxxxxxxxx

The children were every bit as accommodating as Tuvok had promised. His oldest son was in his mid-twenties, and his youngest - and only daughter - was a child of four who seemed intrigued by this unusual visitor. She was clearly trying to remain respectful, but Tasha caught the little girl staring at her ears in a few unguarded moments. Realizing how interested the girl was, Tasha made a conscious effort to sit next to her at the table.

"I apologize for the lack of meat," T'Pel, Tuvok's wife, said briskly, "but it is our custom."

"It's all right, really." Tasha wasn't just saying that. The smell of the food was mouthwatering, no less because she was so hungry. She managed to eat slowly even though she really wanted to inhale it.

"What's it like being human?" the little girl asked.

"Asil," Tuvok chided, "do not pry."

"No, it's all right." Tasha considered the question. "What's it like being Vulcan?"

"I don't know. It's what I am."

"Well, that's what it's like for me being human. I can't tell you what it's like because it's all I've ever known."

Asil seemed to ponder this for a second. "Logical."

Tasha smiled at her. "Indeed."

**Please review. Don't worry, we've heard the last of NCFS-NOY for awhile.**

**I was originally going to have Tasha living just with Tuvok, but when I looked into his character, it didn't seem likely he'd live apart from his wife. Plus the idea of Tasha with the Vulcan kids was too cute to resist. Note that I changed the age of Tuvok's eldest son (again). That has to do with logistics. It should remain thus from now on.**


	4. Chapter Four: A Family of Sorts

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Four: A Family of Sorts**_

"Tasha?"

"Yes?"

"Does this belong to you?" The four-year-old held out a doll in her tiny hands. "It does not belong to me, and it is unlikely to be the property of anyone else in this home."

"Yes! Where did you find it? I've been looking everywhere for it."

"Apparently not everywhere, or you would have found it." Asil handed the doll to Tasha. "In any case, why was it essential to find this one? Could you not simply replicate another one?"

"It just wouldn't be the same."

"Why not?"

"Well-" Tasha knew that arguing the case of sentimental value would probably make no sense to someone who'd been raised with the teachings of logic. "It's not so much about the doll itself as it is about what it represents. This doll was given to me by the very first friend I ever had. It represents the care she had for me. A replica wouldn't be the actual doll that she gave me, so it wouldn't have the same symbolism. It's like - like an heirloom, sort of. I mean, you could always replicate an heirloom piece, and yet people are always so careful to take care of the original. A replica just isn't the same, even if it seems like it should be."

"Okay." Asil seemed to consider something for a moment before speaking again. "Will you tell me about your friend?"

A pang went through Tasha's heart as she thought of Kate, but she pushed it aside. She knew Asil loved her stories, even if the little Vulcan would never admit it. Tasha adored Asil and didn't want to disappoint her.

"All right. Sit down."

"Why?"

_Lesson learned: don't ask a Vulcan to do something unless you're prepared to explain your reasoning._ "It - it gives a sense of having time. When you're standing, it sort of seems like you're about to rush off somewhere else.

"Oh. Okay." The girl immediately planted herself on the floor by Tasha's feet.

xxxxxxxxx

"Sir, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"It's about Vulcan customs. It says here that Vulcan marriages are usually arranged."

"That is correct."

"Why?"

"Because it is logical. Many species choose their mates based on emotions. Since Vulcans have no emotions, they could not choose a mate in such a manner."

"So you've always known you would marry T'Pel?"

"No."

"No? But you said -"

"It was an old Earth poet that said 'The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry'. Putting aside the rodent reference, it is an accurate statement. My promised wife was killed in an accident before we could be bonded, and T'Pel's promised husband was married to another - it is a long tale and touches on private matters that I would prefer not to discuss. We were both alone, and therefore we bonded."

"So you chose each other?"

"Yes. We did, against the wishes of our families."

"Your parents didn't want you marrying?"

"No. It was in defiance of tradition, and they have not spoken to us since."

"That doesn't sound logical to me."

"It was their way of refusing to condone what they saw as a breach of tradition. It was clearly a decision made after a lot of logical thought."

"Whatever you say." Tasha smiled to herself. Whoever said Vulcans were uninteresting hadn't met Tuvok and his family.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha groaned inwardly as she woke. She felt as if she had hardly slept at all. This wasn't the case - she'd fallen asleep early and not woken until her alarm, just as she'd been doing for several days. She'd been feeling progressively worse throughout those days too. She had known she was getting sick, but she'd hoped it would be mild. She could tell now it wouldn't be.

Not that it mattered. Turkana had taught her that being ill changed nothing. No matter how awful she felt, she had had to keep running, keep hiding, keep finding food. To take a break was to jeopardize everything. Tasha hadn't survived ten years on the streets not knowing that. She'd learned how to push illness aside.

She ate her breakfast in silence, focused only on getting the food through her sore throat. She struggled not to gulp down her glass of water - she was so thirsty. No one else seemed to notice anything amiss.

She fell into the routine she'd become accustomed to. She began her studies as soon as the family had finished eating. The words, however, seemed blurry and out of focus. She squinted. It cleared up slightly, but she still had trouble concentrating. Maybe it would be easier if she didn't feel so cold.

Halfway through lunch, Tasha's determination to pretend all was normal was compromised. She had been eating when her stomach turned itself inside out. She swallowed hard, but it was no use. She nearly overturned her chair in her haste to dash to the bathroom. She fell to her knees, throwing up everything in her stomach.

"You are not well." Tuvok had come up behind her unnoticed.

"No, I'm fine." Tasha drew a deep, shaky breath. "Really."

"You are not fine." Tuvok placed a hand on her face. "Your temperature is significantly elevated, and you are shivering, to say nothing of losing your lunch. How long have you been feeling unwell?"

"I-" The Vulcan's face clearly told her she couldn't get away with lying. "A few days."

"Why did you say nothing?"

"I didn't want to be a burden."

"Illness is not something you can control." Tuvok's voice was as frank as ever, but years later Tasha would realize it had been softer than usual.

"I can still work, sir. I can still do whatever you want me to."

"Attempting to work is a near-certain way to worsen your condition. You must rest. Have you finished?"

Tasha nodded miserably. She couldn't see how there could be anything left to come up.

He handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth. "Go to bed," he ordered. "I will contact a doctor."

Tasha just barely managed to change into her sleepwear before she collapsed in her bed. It felt so good to lie down. She drifted off, waking to an unfamiliar voice.

"A rare strain of flu virus. I've been seeing a lot of cases It's resistant to treatment, especially at this late stage. As far as we know, it doesn't affect Vulcans, so your family should be safe, but watch them carefully for symptoms."

"What sort of treatment do you intend to provide to Tasha?"

"I can give her an antiviral to help fight it off, but she's likely to be ill for at least a week. If her fever gets above thirty-nine degrees, call me immediately. In the meantime, she'll need rest and fluids."

She heard the speaker leave, and then she heard Tuvok's voice.

"You are awake." It wasn't a question. He could see that her eyes were half-open.

"Yes."

"I do not want you to get out of bed unless absolutely necessary until the doctor says you may. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now sleep."

"Mhm." Tasha was already dozing off.

xxxxxxxxx

It was dark. That was the first thing Tasha noticed when she woke again. The next thing was that she was hot and very thirsty. She sat up quickly, and the room immediately started spinning.

"I would advise against that." T'Pel's voice startled Tasha: she hadn't realized anyone else was in the room.

"Right." Tasha slumped ungracefully back to her pillows. "I'm just really thirsty. I wanted to get something to drink."

"You were instructed not to leave your bed." Not a criticism, just a basic statement of fact.

"I know, I know."

She heard T'Pel moving around the room and then felt something cool pressed to her lips. "Drink. You will feel better."

Tasha's mouth filled with the sweet taste of apple juice. She gulped eagerly, only to find that the cup was quickly pulled away.

"Drink slowly, or you could cause a repeat occurrence of your nausea." T'Pel placed the glass to Tasha's mouth again, and this time the young woman was careful to sip slowly, lest the wonderful liquid be taken away before she was finished.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For causing you so much trouble. I'm sure there are things you'd rather be doing than taking care of a sick houseguest."

"Perhaps. But it is nothing you can control. I would do the same if it were Asil or one of the boys."

"But they're your children. I'm not."

"You are under our roof, and therefore you will be treated as a member of this family. Now do not continue this conversation. It will only tire you." She paused. "Are your eyes bothering you?"

"No." Tasha wished she could tell T'Pel why those words had brought tears to her eyes, but she was far too exhausted to give a lengthy explanation. Instead, all she said was "thank you."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha threw off her blankets as soon as she woke up. It was so hot in the room.

"Tasha?" Tuvok pressed a cup to her lips. "You are dehydrated. You must drink. No - I know you're thirsty, but you will make yourself ill by drinking so fast."

She sipped more carefully, and he allowed her to completely drain the glass. She heard the soft beep of a tricorder.

"Your temperature has risen but is still below thirty-nine. How do you feel? The truth."

"I feel terrible," she admitted. "Hot and tired and I ache. Everywhere."

"You should continue to sleep."

"That's about all I feel up to right now."

"Then it is logical that that is what you should do."

"Right." Her eyes were already slipping shut.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha jerked violently awake and bolted partially upright. Instantly, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"You should not do that." Tuvok. He was still there.

She swallowed hard. "I'm going to throw up."

Instantly, he'd pulled a basin from beneath the bed. "I had prepared for that contingency." He helped her to sit up and lean over the side of the bed, supporting her as she lost the contents of her stomach.

"Your fever is dangerously high." He lowered her back onto the pillows. "I have already called the doctor."

His hand briefly brushed her face, and it felt wonderful, cool and comforting. Without really thinking about it, her hand had covered his, pressing it to her cheek, not wanting to lose that sensation.

For someone who claimed to be unemotional, Tuvok exhibited quite a bit of care. He allowed her to cling to his hand for a few seconds before carefully withdrawing it. He returned a few seconds later, pressing a cold cloth into her hand.

"Hold that against your face. It might help you feel more comfortable."

She did as he instructed. "Thank you."

Someone else entered the room. She heard a voice, male, unfamiliar. The man placed a hand on her chest and she pulled away, her fevered mind not able to think rationally and falling back on the memories of other strange men -

A firm hand clasped her shoulder. "Tasha. Is something wrong?"

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"There is nothing here for you to be frightened of." But Tuvok quickly realized that she was too sick and too terrified to think rationally. "Here." He placed his hand in hers. "I will protect you."

She gripped his hand as tightly as she could in her weakened state. The doctor began to examine her again, and this time she didn't pull away. Tuvok was there. She wouldn't be hurt.

Everything became blurry. Tasha fought to keep her eyes open.

"There is no need for you to remain awake for the examination."

"He's right." The same unfamiliar voice. It must be the doctor. "Your body is telling you to rest. Listen to it."

Tasha allowed her eyelids to slip shut. She felt herself floating away.

She wasn't exactly sure how long it was before she opened her eyes. The first thing she realized was that she no longer felt so hot. The second was that her mouth and throat felt as dry as a desert.

She tried to sit up and instantly became dizzy. She slumped back against the pillows, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You are awake." Tasha hadn't realized T'Pel was there.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Four days. You have been very ill."

"I don't feel so bad anymore." Her dry throat made her voice rough.

"Your fever broke last night. Are you thirsty?"

Tasha nodded and T'Pel brought her a glass of water. She drank slowly, fighting her instincts to gulp it down.

"Is there anything else you require?"

"Yes." She swallowed hard. "I wanted to thank you."

"You have already thanked me."

"Not for taking care of me. For what you said when I was sick. You said that as long as I lived here, I'd be treated like family."

"You do not need to thank me for simply stating a fact."

"Maybe not from your perspective, but - I haven't had a family since I was five, and with one exception, no one has ever treated me like family since. To you, it might have been just a fact, but to me -" her voice choked, but she'd said enough. T'Pel understood.

"You will have a family here for as long as you require one."

Tasha's first instinct was to embrace the woman, but she knew Vulcans rarely showed physical affection and she had no desire to make the woman uncomfortable. She didn't know what to say - "thank you" seemed so inadequate. So she just smiled, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

**I'm sorry for the delay, but my keyboard jammed up and then I donated blood and was really out of it for a day and a half. Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait.**

**Please review. **


	5. Chapter Five: Out of Control

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Five: Out of Control  
**_

"I do not believe that activity is constructive." Tuvok raised an eyebrow at Tasha, who'd been pacing the living room for the past half-hour.

"When are they going to call?"

"There is no way to know. And I hardly believe your fruitless pacing will expedite the process."

"So what exactly am I supposed to do while I'm waiting? Not everyone has Vulcan patience."

"Come here."

She planted herself on the couch.

"Lace your fingers together, keeping your forefingers extended. Close your eyes. Imagine all the energy in your body is flowing to the point where your fingertips meet. Nothing else you hear or feel is important. Let the outside world fade away. You exist only inside your mind."

She took his direction without question. This easy trust was something Tuvok could not fail to appreciate, not with her background being what it was.

The comm beeped. Tasha jumped, her eyes flying open. Her hand shook as she activated the comm panel.

"Miss Yar?"

"Yes, sir." It took incredible force of will to keep her voice steady.

"We are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted. Testing will begin in two weeks. Details will be transmitted to you before that date."

The message was every bit as clinical and distant as the first. But while that one had crushed her, this one filled her with sheer delight.

"Thank you." Her voice was surprisingly calm as she terminated the link. She turned to Tuvok, beaming. "Thank you so much."

"You do not owe me thanks."

"Without your recommendation -"

"I may have written the recommendation, but it was you who proved that you were academy material. This is nothing you have not earned."

"But you gave me a chance when no one else would."

"It was logical."

"Then no one else I spoke to was behaving logically?"

"It is an unfortunately common occurrence in Starfleet."

She couldn't suppress a grin - it was as close to "frustrated" as she'd ever seen him.

xxxxxxxxx

A tiny, muffled squeak came from outside. Tasha immediately dropped the PADD, jumping to her feet. Her first thought was that it was some sort of creature, and she hurried out onto the porch. But her creature turned out to be a small humanoid, curled up in a tiny ball.

"Asil?"

A little head shot up. Huge eyes focused on Tasha's face.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school? Are you okay?"

Asil said nothing.

"What happened?" She hurried down the stairs to kneel next to the girl.

"The other children -" she took a deep, shaky breath, "I always felt like they didn't like me, but it would not have been logical and so I thought I must have been imagining it. But today the teacher had to leave us alone and a few of them started hitting and pushing me, and then one of them twisted my arm." She extended her right arm, and Tasha could see that it was swollen and bruised. "So I left. It would not have been logical for me to stay in a place where I was being hurt. The teacher behaved in much the same way as the students had - she kept me at a distance. She would not have listened to me." She said it frankly, as if it hadn't mattered, but it was clear she was close to crying.

Tasha immediately gathered Asil into her arms, rubbing the child's back. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now."

The little girl leaned into her shoulder, seeking the comfort of contact. Tasha held her tightly, feeling tears prick her own eyes.

"Come on, let's get you inside." She stood carefully, lifting Asil with her.

"Is my father here?"

"No, it's just me right now. Do you want me to call him?"

"Not now. He is working. I do not want to disturb him."

"All right. We'll tell him later." She carefully placed the girl onto the couch and grabbed a wet towel, which she used to gently clean the dirt from the girl's face.

"Let me see your arm."

Asil extended it silently. Tasha took her hand, feeling a burning anger inside. How could someone do so much harm to such a little child? She found a medkit and injected her with a pain reliever.

"Tasha?"

"Yes?"

"Why do people do such things? It makes no sense."

"I know it doesn't." Tasha joined Asil on the couch, drawing the little Vulcan close to her. "Sometimes, people who feel weak or scared hurt other people because it makes them feel stronger."

"But I have done them no harm. Why would they wish to harm me?"

Tasha realized that Asil, like any child who had been hurt, was really just hoping for a reason behind something so senseless. The older girl had no answer, so she just hugged her again.

Asil's shoulders hitched, and another small squeak escaped her lips. Tasha tightened her grip. "Just cry. It'll make you feel better."

The little girl started to sob silently, her tears soaking through Tasha's shirt. Tasha rocked her like a baby, kissing her gently on the head.

"I'll protect you," she promised.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha held the PADD in one hand, keeping the other wrapped around the sleeping child. Asil had cried herself to sleep in her friend's arms.

She stirred, and Tasha was instantly alert. "How do you feel?"

"It hurts."

"Where?"

She indicated her arm, which was swollen worse than it had been. She then indicated her chest and stomach, Tasha carefully moved her shirt and saw that her torso was dark with bruises.

"It hurts to breathe," she whispered.

"Wait here." Tasha carefully set the child back on the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"To call your father."

"You should not."

"Yes, I should. He needs to know, and you need him to take care of you." She kissed the girl's forehead. "Now, wait here for me."

Asil nodded mutely, and Tasha hurried over to the comm system. Tuvok's face appeared on the screen.

"I trust you would not bother me unless this were important."

"It is, sir. It's Asil. She's injured."

"Injured how?"

"She was attacked." Tasha didn't take the time to explain who had attacked her.

"What is the extent of her injuries?"

"One arm is bruised and swollen, and she has bruises everywhere. She said it hurts to breathe."

"I will be there shortly."

Three minutes later, the Vulcan beamed into his home to find his daughter curled up in Tasha's lap. He strode purposefully over to them. "Allow me to see your injuries."

She extended her arm again, then, with Tasha's help, slipped off her shirt.

"Who is responsible for this?"

Asil shot Tasha a silent, pleading look. The girl understood. "It was the other students at her school. They attacked her."

A single tear slipped down the child's face. Instantly, she brushed it away, but Tuvok noticed and gently took her hand. "You are young, and you have been hurt. There is no need for shame."

Her dark eyes, so much like his, fixed on his face. "Really?"

"I would not say it if it were not so." He favored her with a gentle look. "Remain here. I need to summon medical help."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha stood silently in the doorway, watching Tuvok as he put his daughter to bed. Normally distant, the Vulcan had broken those barriers tonight to care for his injured child.

"I can't sleep," she whispered.

Tuvok had clearly anticipated this; his lute was within his arm's reach. "Focus on the music. Do not think of anything else."

_"Mommy, I'm scared."_

_"Don't worry, baby. Mommy's here."_

The long-forgotten memory hit Tasha like a speeding hovercar. Her memories of her mother were few and far between. This particular one had been completely buried until now.

"Just listen to the music."

_"Come here. Listen. Can you hear your sister?"_

_Tasha pressed her ear against her mother's swollen stomach. "I hear her, Mommy."_

_"Listen to her. Don't worry about anything else."_

Even Vulcan hearing couldn't have picked up the sound of the teenager turning and running from the doorway. Curled up on her bed, she did something she hadn't really let herself do in years.

She cried.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha would never cease to be impressed by open, grassy areas like the park she was sitting in. Not when she'd spent so long in a place where everything beautiful had been destroyed.

There was a handful of children scattered around the field. Asil, who had come to the park with Tasha, was the youngest by a few years, and the oldest, besides Tasha herself, appeared to be about sixteen.

Asil had been homeschooled in the week since her incident at school. T'Pel had originally proposed the idea as an interim measure until they could find a more permanent solution, but Tasha could tell that the woman enjoyed this chance to spend time with her youngest child. She had a feeling this interim measure was soon to become a permanent state of being.

Something odd caught her eye, and she approached the sixteen-year-old girl as casually as possible. "Come here often?"

"Yeah, a few times a week. Why?"

"Are those people always there?"

"What people?"

Tasha indicated a group of adults that were loosely surrounding the small park, not preventing anyone coming or going, but looking definitely out of place.

"No, they're not. I've never seen them before, but I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't pointed them out. Maybe they've been here before and I just didn't notice."

But the girl's theory was proved incorrect in that moment. All as one, the strange adults closed their perimeter. Now no one would be able to enter or leave.

"Everyone stay calm and don't resist," one of them said loudly.

"Why should we?" asked someone.

"Do as I say, and no one gets hurt."

"What's going on here?" This from someone else.

"Let's just say, we're trying to open negotiations with Starfleet, but they haven't been receptive. So we're trying a different tactic."

"You mean we're being held hostage." Tasha felt an icy slick of fear in her stomach.

The man smiled, if it could be called a smile. "You might say that."

**Please review. I only got one review for the last chapter. Who knows, maybe it'll encourage me to update faster. (Evil smile.)**


	6. Chapter Six: A Way Out

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Six: A Way Out  
**_

There were few things more disorienting and upsetting than not knowing where you were. This was, unfortunately, the case now. As soon as they'd secured the park, the kidnappers had beamed the children to another field, no one knew where.

Tasha could hear the children crying, and it made her want to cry herself. They'd been there for nearly two days, and no one had bothered to give them food or water. Asil lay in her arms, silent although Tasha knew she was as hungry and thirsty as the rest of them.

"What is it?" Tasha whispered to the sixteen-year-old, who had been particularly on edge the entire time.

"You heard what they said," she whispered back. "They're holding us hostage to force Starfleet to give in to their demands." Grey eyes flicked nervously around the field, making sure no one was listening. "My father's an admiral. If they find out who I am, they might target me specifically."

At that moment, something stirred nearby, rustling some leaves, and all the guards turned towards it. It took almost ten seconds - Tasha was counting silently - before they turned their attention back to the enclosure in general.

"What is it?" The girl noticed the change in Tasha.

Tasha's voice was so quiet that she had to lean in almost to the point where they were touching, and even then she strained to hear. "I think I have a way out of here."

"What?"

"I need a couple rocks. Heavy, but small enough to hold in my hand. Five or six if we can find them."

The people who'd captured them hadn't bothered to clear the small enclosure of stones, and they quickly found what she needed and more. "Now what?"

"Follow me." Tasha lifted Asil, and the three of them positioned themselves opposite an abandoned metal structure just outside the field , right up against the five-and-a-half-foot fence that surrounded the enclosure.

"Perfect," she whispered. "How well can you climb?"

"Pretty well," the other girl answered. "I grew up on a farm."

"Okay. As soon as I say so, climb over the fence. I'll give you a boost to start you off. As soon as you're out, I'll hand her over to you, and then I'll climb out myself. Once we're clear, we need to run for the trees - there, where it's thickest."

"What about the others?"

"We can't get all of them out, and we'd be caught for sure if we tried. The best thing we can do for them is tell the authorities where they are - that also means that we need to figure out our exact location as soon as possible and remember how to get here from the nearest landmark. Now, as I was saying, as soon as we're clear, we break for the trees. Once we're there, we take cover and wait for night."

"Shouldn't we try to get as far away as possible?"

"We're exhausted and starving, we'd never outrun them in a flat chase. The cluster of trees is only a few hundred meters. I'm counting on us being able to get undercover before they notice we're gone. It's only a couple of hours until sundown anyway, and our best chance of getting away is to wait for cover of dark."

"All right. When do we go?"

"Get ready. When I give the word, we'll have to move fast. Every second counts."

"Understood."

"All right. Asil, you ready?"

The little Vulcan nodded silently,

"All right, on my mark." Tasha took one of the stones in her hand, took careful aim, and threw it hard.

Her aim was true. The stone struck the metal building with a clang that echoed loudly. Instantly the guards were on alert.

"Hang on, hang on," she whispered, throwing another stone, which had the same effect. The guards began to move towards the source of the disturbance. No one was watching the hostages.

"Now!" Tasha hoisted the other girl, who took advantage of the momentum to clamber up the rest of the way.

"All right," she hissed through the fence. "I'm down."

Tasha threw another rock to keep the guards' attention diverted, and then lifted Asil over the top.

"I've got her. You can let go."

Tasha fired off three more stones, causing a series of echoes even more unnerving than the others. Then she swung herself up over the fence, landing in a crouch and scooping Asil into her arms. "Let's go."

Later, none of them would be able to remember how they'd moved so fast. But they sprinted to the cluster of trees, dropping breathless to the ground as soon as they were well inside.

"Now what?"

"We wait."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why me and her? You'd probably have a better chance by yourself."

"Because you were in danger, like you said, and Asil's my responsibility, and she was the youngest so she was in danger too." She bit her lip. "And because I spent too much of my life surviving on my own, and frankly I couldn't stand to do it again, even for a few days."

"If it makes you feel better, I like having you around too." She smiled a little bit. "You remind me of my sister."

Tasha swallowed hard. If she was completely honest, the girl reminded Tasha of her own sister. As much as she was still angry with Ishara, she couldn't forget the girl who'd been her only companion for nine years, the girl she'd loved and who'd loved her.

"I'm Tasha," she said finally, just to say something. "Tasha Yar. And this is Asil."

"Phoebe Janeway. You're in Starfleet, aren't you?"

"With any luck. I'm a candidate for the Academy. How'd you know?"

"I've spent my life around Starfleet. I'm an Admiral's daughter, remember?"

"Are you going into Starfleet too?"

"Oh, no. That's Katie's department. I'm more like my mom."

"Your sister?"

"Uh-huh. And one of the things you have in common with her is that you never say when something's bothering you."

"I just don't want to talk about it."

"At least you're honest. Katie would've insisted I was imagining things."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Asil was fast asleep in Tasha's arms, and Phoebe dozed off shortly thereafter. Tasha, however, couldn't relax enough to sleep. The years-old reflex to remain alert when there was any chance of danger was as sharp as ever.

She sat and watched the sun set. It wasn't long before it was completely dark. She leaned over and shook Phoebe awake.

"Come on, let's move."

xxxxxxxxx

"Look!" Tasha pointed excitedly.

"What?"

"Buildings. And not derelict ones, either. I think we've found an actual town."

The news could hardly have come at a better time. They'd been walking for over a day through apparently uninhabited territory. It would've been hard under the best of circumstances, but now, all three dehydrated, starving, and exhausted, it seemed next to impossible. Tasha was more accustomed to hardship, but she'd also been carrying Asil, whose legs were too short to keep up.

"What are we waiting for?" Phoebe grinned.

Tasha grinned back. "Who's waiting?"

This temporary excitement gave them a surge of energy, and they all but sprinted into the town.

"Now what?" Phoebe asked.

"We need to find a law-enforcement office."

"Here. A directory."

Tasha was right on Phoebe's heels. As it turned out, they were only about three blocks away, and they were able to summon the strength for one more sprint.

About five people in the office looked up, startled, when Tasha and Phoebe stumbled through the door. One finally stood up and approached them.

"Where are we?" Tasha blurted out before the man could speak.

He seemed mildly taken aback. "Madison, of course. You kids lost?"

"Where's that?"

"Wisconsin," Phoebe answered for him. "We're most of the way across the country."

"Would one of you mind explaining who you are and what's going on?"

Phoebe and Tasha exchanged a look, and then the former spoke. "My name's Phoebe Janeway -"

"Phoebe Janeway? Admiral Janeway's daughter?"

"That's right."

"There's an alert out for you, you and the other children who were in the park. And your friends? Were they kidnapped with you?"

"Yes." Tasha answered. "My name's Tasha Yar, and this is Asil."

"They're both on the list," someone else reported.

"All right, girls. I'll arrange for someone take you to San Francisco. Just sit tight. You'll be home before you know it."

xxxxxxxxx

"We have to do something!" The admiral ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. "We can't just refuse to free the rest of their gang from prison and watch them kill the children!"

"I agree." Tuvok's voice was as calm as it ever was. "But being emotional will not help us come to a solution."

"Look, you can be calm and logical all you want, but those bastards have my daughter and I'll be as emotional as I want to! Not that you could understand."

"Must I remind you, Admiral, that my own daughter is also being held hostage." Outwardly, the Vulcan was perfectly composed. Even his wife would have been hard-pressed to know what was going on underneath. The truth was, his heart was breaking silently, for his child and for the young protege he'd come to care for like a member of his own family.

"All right, both of you," another admiral inserted. "An argument isn't what anyone needs."

"I'm sorry," Janeway said quietly. "I wasn't thinking."

The door buzzed loudly.

"Come in!" someone called. A security officer stepped in briskly.

"Sirs, we have some people here you might like to see."

"Who -" Janeway began, but was shocked into silence when the three girls entered the room. For a moment, he just stared in silence, then he rushed forward. "Phoebe, baby, oh God." He pulled his disheveled daughter into his arms, holding her for dear life.

Tasha, meanwhile, entered the room herself, still carrying Asil. She caught sight of Tuvok, and her eyes fixed on him. Slowly, deliberately, she walked over to him and placed his child in his arms. Then she swayed, exhausted, the resolve that had gotten her through that last action fading fast.

"Sit," Tuvok ordered, pulling out an empty chair. She collapsed into it.

"We know where the others are," she said quietly, "more or less."

"Where?" another admiral asked.

"About a day's walk north of Madison, Wisconsin. A fenced enclosure."

The admirals began talking amongst themselves, but Tasha couldn't focus on them. Her head was spinning, and the adrenaline that had kept her on her feet was wearing off.

"She's living with you, isn't she?" Tasha heard Janeway ask.

"Yes."

"Take her home. She's exhausted. Let her sleep for a day or two."

A sudden realization struck Tasha. "What time is it?"

"0114 hours. Why?"

"The exams - they start at 0900. Today."

"Exams?"

"Starfleet Academy entrance exams," Tuvok explained. "She has qualified to take them."

"I can't miss them. If I do, I'll have to wait a whole year."

He sighed. "Just like my Kathryn, I swear. Miss Yar, there's a provision in the entrance exam rules that allows you to make them up in the case of extenuating circumstances. I'd say this qualifies. And I'll make sure it doesn't hurt your chances."

"You'd do that for me?"

"You saved my daughter. I won't forget that. You have my word. Now for God's sake, go home and get some rest."

"Yes, sir."

xxxxxxxxx

Tuvok, Tasha, and Asil, still in her father's arms, materialized in the living room. No one else was awake, not surprising considering the time.

Tasha's knees buckled as soon as the confinement beam released her, and she would have fallen if Tuvok hadn't caught her arm.

"Go to bed," he ordered.

Tasha was far too exhausted to argue. She stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed on her bed, not bothering to change, not even noticing how hungry and thirsty she was.

Asil yawned hugely in her father's arms. Part of her wanted to go to bed, but another part didn't want him to ever put her down. The latter part won out and she snuggled deeper into his shoulder.

"Do you require anything?" he asked her gently.

"May I have a drink of water?" Only her Vulcan calm enabled her to say it so politely. She was desperately thirsty, her mouth was parched and her throat was burning.

"Of course." Tuvok set her carefully on the couch and brought her a glass. She drank most of it in one gulp, not caring that water was running down her chin. Tuvok wiped her face with a towel, not bothering to reprimaind her. She wouldn't drink like that unless she really needed the liquid.

"How long has it been since you had anything to drink?"

She thought for a second. "Approximately twenty minutes before we were captured, Tasha acquired a bottle of juice for each of us."

"You were not provided with water while you were held?"

She shook her head, and he brought her another glass. "You are likely quite dehydrated. Drink this as well. Am I correct in assuming that you were not provided with food either?"

She gulped the water and set the glass down. "Yes."

"You must be hungry."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. Vulcans could go longer without food than humans, but it had been close to four days and Asil was still a child. Her stomach was aching from being so empty.

Tuvok quickly replicated her a meal, and she devoured every morsel. Almost immediately, her eyes began to close.

"You need to go to bed as well." He picked her up again, carrying her to her bed and dressing her in her sleepwear. She was asleep before he'd drawn the blankets over her.

He got up to leave, but something stopped him. He looked back at his daughter. She was only four; Vulcan or not, it would be wrong to assume she wouldn't have nightmares. He should stay with her in case she needed him. It was only logical.

xxxxxxxxx

It was still dark when Tasha woke, or at least that was her first thought. But she hardly believed that, as exhausted as she'd been, she would have woken on her own after only a few hours.

"Computer, time."

"2303 hours."

Oh. So it wasn't still dark, it was dark again. Part of her just wanted to go back to sleep, but her hunger wouldn't let her. She got up slowly, trying to be quiet so she wouldn't wake the rest of the house.

"How do you feel?"

Tasha jumped slightly. "I didn't realize anyone else was awake."

"Obviously." Tuvok gave her an appraising look. "Where were you going?"

"Just to get something to eat."

"I had assumed you would be hungry. Asil was, and that was a day ago." He paused briefly. "I wish to thank you."

"For what, sir?"

"You had no practical reason to take Asil with you, and yet you did. And she told me you carried her the whole way."

"I was responsible for her safety. That was enough of a reason. And she couldn't keep up on foot."

Tuvok gave an approving nod. "I understand. But I owe you nonetheless."

The truth was, she never ceased to impress him. Yes, Asil had been under her charge, but many people, especially people her age, wouldn't have bothered with anyone else, to say nothing of carrying a child for a whole day. And yet Tasha, who'd known little except sorrow and abuse her whole life, still had it in her to care enough about Asil that she'd refused to leave her behind.

Tasha gave him a small smile. "Just see it as a repayment of what I owe you."

**I hope I got this out before anyone completely lost their mind over the cliffhanger.**

**Phoebe and her father are both borrowed from Jeri Taylor's novel **_**Mosaic**_**. And if you can't figure out who their sister/daughter is, you're paying no attention or you haven't seen **_**Voyager**_**. Or **_**Nemesis.**_

**Please Review. **


	7. Chapter Seven: Repressed Memories

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Seven: Repressed Memories**_

Tasha ran through the unfamiliar terrain. She didn't know where she was going or how she'd get back to her camp. All she knew was that she had to get away.

She wasn't exactly sure where she was. The transport ship she'd been on had crashed, leaving her as the only survivor. Not that she'd escaped unscathed. Her arm was broken, the shoulder shattered, and she was bleeding heavily from a deep cut near her elbow. She was dizzy from blood loss and pain.

She'd intended to activate a beacon and wait to be rescued, but the unfamiliar aliens had changed that. They'd been nearly on top of her before she'd noticed them - if she'd been anyone else, she wouldn't have noticed anything until it was too late. They'd been stalking her like a lion, and Tasha knew that no one who approached a camp in that manner would have good intentions. She'd bolted, and they'd given chase, giving up silence when they'd realized she'd noticed them.

She hurried down a hill and nearly tripped over something. Or rather, someone. A young boy, lying prostrate on the ground.

The child gasped. "Oh! You're not one of them."

"Who are they?"

"The Chi'ia. They run around attacking people. Anyone they find they beat, and then they decide if the person is worthy to be kept as a slave. If not, they are killed."

Footsteps. Shoes crashing on the rocks.

Tasha looked at the boy. He couldn't be more than six or seven. She looked at the approaching mob, then back at him. She drew a deep breath.

"Run," she told him urgently. "Go. Down the hill. Hurry."

The child looked up with wide eyes. "They'll catch me."

"No, they won't. I promise. Quickly!"

The child took off running, and Tasha watched him go. He became smaller and smaller.

The Chi'ia were almost upon her. The boy was still visible. She had to buy him more time. If they got to the crest of the hill -

They wouldn't. Steeling herself, Tasha turned and ran. Back up the hill.

She encountered the Chi'ia just after she got past the crest of the hill. She paled, and her first instinct was to flee. But she would not. She'd save the child, whatever the cost.

Then they were upon her. One of them grabbed her broken arm, eliciting a cry of pain. She was thrown to the ground -

And found herself staring up at a holodeck ceiling. Her arm was no longer hurting, and the Chi'ia were nowhere to be seen.

Memory rushed back. She'd never crashed on any planet. This was all just a test.

She sat up slowly, trembling. She couldn't help looking around her, as if the warlike Chi'ia - who she suspected didn't really exist at all - might spring from the walls. She slowly got to her feet, managing to walk out of the room with some sense of dignity.

The fresh air revived her a little, and by the time she'd returned to the home she'd come to call her own, she had composed herself. She responded to questions about the test as neutrally as possible. As long as she put it out of her mind, it would all be okay.

She hadn't counted on what would happen once she was in bed and her subconscious took over. As soon as her eyes were closed, she was assailed by images of the Chi'ia, how they'd chased her, how they'd grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, and then that mixed with images of the rape gangs, and she could see the sneers on their faces, hear their taunts and mocking laughter, feel their hands as they ripped away her clothing, their hot breath on her body, their fingers touching her everywhere she didn't want them, their bodies forcing her down as they undressed themselves, the way they positioned themselves over her -

She sat bolt upright in bed, shaking and breathing heavily. She'd managed to suppress the worst of the memories from her childhood. It was the only way to live daily without being haunted by them. But her experience, simulated though it had been, had brought those walls down. She couldn't stop shaking. She curled into a ball, wishing it would all go away.

Her stomach twisted, and she jumped up to dash into the bathroom. She huddled over the toilet, emptying her stomach, no longer able to hold back her tears. She was glad it was the middle of the night. At least that way, nobody would know how silly she was being -

"Are you well?"

Tasha sighed to herself. "I'm fine, sir. Just a little shaken."

"If you are becoming physically ill, you are more than a little shaken. Is this related to today's examination?"

"Yes. And no."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"It's not the test itself, not exactly. But the test triggered some other memories - things I don't like to think about." Tasha stood slowly, taking a glass to rinse her mouth.

"Am I correct in believing you have repressed these memories?"

Tasha nodded, trying to wipe the tears from her face before he saw them. If he noticed, he said nothing.

"Perhaps you should tell me what is bothering you." He led her back out into her bedroom.

"I can't," she whispered. "It's too hard just to say the words."

"Then perhaps you can show me."

"How?"

"A Vulcan mind-meld. We would be telepathically linked, exchanging our thoughts, in essence becoming one mind. I would be able to experience your memories as you experience them."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? It will not harm you in any way."

"Because - because I wouldn't wish my experiences on my worst enemy, let alone someone who's done as much for me as you have. I don't want to put you through that."

"I do not foresee danger or risk to myself. I will be able to separate your experiences from my own. Now, do you wish to proceed?"

She hesitated.

"It would likely do you good to share these feelings. It is obvious they are hurting you."

"All right. Do it."

"Please be seated. This may take some time."

"What should I do?" she seated herself on her bed, facing him.

"Attempt to call forward the memories in question. It will save me the trouble of searching for them."

"I will."

He sat across from her, placing his hands against her face. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." The pain he felt from her as soon as his shields were down almost caused him to pull away, but he forced himself to open the link all the way. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

He probed into her mind, and she let him, showing him what he wanted to see. Every sickening memory from her childhood. Every man who had used her body as if it didn't have a consciousness inside it. The way they had laughed and jeered at her tears and her pleas. How she'd eventually stopped pleading when she'd realized all it did was fuel their fires. How they'd leave her lying where they'd violated her, not caring if she lived or died.

Shuddering with pain that was not his own, he broke the link and looked into her wide eyes. She stared back at him, and he could tell just from the look in her eyes that she was inches away from falling apart completely.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping her gaze.

"For what are you apologizing?"

"For putting you through all that, for making you feel my pain. For all of it."

"I do not believe you are the one who should be apologizing." He'd pinpointed one of the many feelings she had about this as guilt. "It was not your fault."

She almost stopped breathing.

"You did not ask for what they put you through. There was no secret part of you wanting it. You did not do anything to provoke it, and there was nothing you could feasibly have done to prevent it." He took her shoulders in a gentle grip. "The blame belongs to your attackers. Do not take it upon yourself. Do not be ashamed of what was done to you without your consent, against your will."

Her eyes met his again. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"On the contrary. I have experienced your thoughts, including your unfounded guilt."

"Thank you. For all of it."

"You are welcome. Can you sleep?"

"I think so."

"Then do so. It is late."

"Will you stay?" She winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. What was she doing asking something like that?

"If that is what you require."

"It is," she admitted. The formerly-suppressed memories now sat in the front of her consciousness, and she didn't want to be alone.

"Then I will remain. And Tasha, you should not feel guilty for your response to these events either. On the contrary, there are few people who could have come through this as strong as you are."

She reached out instinctively for his hand, and he gave it to her. After all, he reasoned, the reason Vulcans tended to eschew contact with others was to avoid sensing their feelings. He'd sensed Tasha's most profound, volatile emotions just moments ago. Certainly he could handle her feelings when she was calm and half-asleep.

She was asleep shortly thereafter, exhausted by the day's events. Tuvok gently slid his hand out of hers but took the chair in her room. He'd told her he wouldn't leave. And a Vulcan never lied.

**This chapter is sort of an experiment for me in that I almost never write a chapter in one continuous, unbroken narrative. What did you think?**

**Some of the things Tuvok says to Tasha about not blaming herself were borrowed from ScarletLycan's excellent story Porcelain Masks. It can be found on my Favorite Stories page.  
**

**Please review.**


	8. Chapter Eight: Out of the Mouth of Babes

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Eight: Out of the Mouth of Babes**_

The psych test might have been the most painful part of the process, but Tasha would have said that the panel was more difficult overall. For fifteen years, she'd had little cause to speak to anyone for any reason. The idea of speaking in public, therefore, was unnerving at best.

So far, she'd managed fine. All she'd had to do was respond verbally to questions of fact, and she knew the answers. All she had to do was make sure she kept calm. But now they were getting to the big question.

"Candidate Yar, why do you want to join Starfleet?"

On Tuvok's recommendation, she had not prepared her response in advance. He had told her to be honest and speak whatever came to mind.

"I could give you a long list of all the things that I find admirable about Starfleet, but I know that's not what you want to hear. You don't need me to tell you what you already know.

"I spent most of my youth fighting for my life, trying to evade gangs that wanted to hurt me. And more than that, I spent those years thinking that was normal. I'm telling you this not because I want or expect your pity, but only to explain where I'm coming from. Starfleet was the first thing I ever saw that countered that idea of what the world was. I was rescued by people who took care of me just because they could. I'd never heard of that before, not since I'd lost my parents anyway. I saw order in Starfleet, where I had known only chaos, and chaos that brought pain with it. I want to be a part of that, to do for others what a group of sympathetic officers did for me. I swore to myself the last time I stepped off my home planet that I would become something better. I see this as my chance."

She drew a deep breath. "This may not be as long, or as eloquent or well-worded, as what most cadets come in with. But it's honest, and I hope that's enough. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you. You're dismissed."

xxxxxxxxx

"There's no way I passed that."

"You have not recieved your results yet. It is illogical to form assumptions."

"Those other students have had years of training and preparation. I had a few months."

"And you have learned much in those few months. In any case, you will not be judged, positively or negatively, based on the actions of others, only on your own performance."

"But still, how could I measure up?"

"Tasha?" Asil peeked around the corner. "Do you not desire to attend the academy?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that you have not succeeded?"

Tasha turned back to Tuvok, but he only raised an eyebrow, indicating his own interest in the issue.

Tasha sighed softly. "I suppose it's because I can't keep myself from drawing some conclusion, and I'd rather assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised than be disappointed."

"I do not believe you have anything to fear. Certainly not if what you have demonstrated in the past few months has held true."

"You mean that?"

"I am not in the habit of saying what I do not mean."

"No, I suppose you're not."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha wasn't exactly sure what had woken her from a sound sleep. The room was silent and dark as ever, and she hadn't had the kind of dream that would have caused her to wake. So what was it?

Waking further, Tasha was aware of an odd feeling, as if someone was watching her. She rolled over, sat up –

And found herself looking into a dark pair of eyes.

"Asil?" The girl's silhouette was visible as her eyes adjusted to the light. "It's late."

"Actually, it is early," the child pointed out sensibly.

"Yes, well, it's still the middle of the night. What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep. My dreams were unpleasant."

"You want to talk about it?" Tasha scooted to one side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for Asil to climb up next to her.

Asil didn't move from her place in the doorway. "It is only a dream. I did not intend to disturb you."

"Don't worry about it." Tasha opened her arms. "Come here."

The additional invitation was all Asil needed. The child scrambled up on the bed and buried her face in Tasha's shirt. The older girl wrapped her arms around the little Vulcan.

"What's going on?" Tasha asked. "What did you dream about?"

"The men. The men who took us all away."

"You mean what happened last month?" Asil nodded. "How long have you been having these dreams?"

"Nearly every night since."

"Oh, sweetheart. What are they about?"

"I am aware that no one was hurt and everyone was liberated. But my dreams end differently. Someone is always hurt or killed. Occasionally it is someone whose name I do not know. Sometimes it is Phoebe or myself." Wide eyes fixed on Tasha's face. "Most often, it is you."

Tasha had no words to say, so she just hugged the child again. "Is that why you were in here?"

Asil nodded. "I needed to see you, to reassure myself that you were well. I know it is not logical, but –"

"Stop." Tasha halted the girl's explanation."Is this the first time you've done it?"

She shook her head. "Every time I dream of you being injured or killed, I come in here. But I have never woken you before and I did not intend to tonight."

"I'm glad you did. I just wish you'd woken me sooner." Tasha hugged her again and lightly kissed the top of her head.

"You do? Why would you wish to be woken?"

"So I can help you, baby. You shouldn't have to handle this on your own."

"Why do I have these dreams? Why do I recall what never happened?"

"Because you know what _could_ have happened."

"And why is it rarely a stranger? They were as likely to hurt them as us."

"Because of your bond with us. While any injury or death would have been a tragedy, you're realizing you could have lost someone you cared deeply about. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I do not wish to sleep anymore."

For the first time, Tasha noticed how worn out Asil appeared. "How much have you been sleeping?"

"On average, about three to four hours a night."

"For a month? You must be exhausted. I'll tell you what. Why don't you sleep in here tonight?"

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. Lie down."

Asil curled up on one side. Tasha laid down next to her, pulling the little Vulcan close to her chest. "Sleep, baby, sleep. I'll protect you."

The child snuggled into her shoulder, dark eyes fluttering closed. Tasha held her tightly.

"I love you," she whispered. Even half-asleep, Asil smiled slightly.

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha." Tuvok glanced up at her. "Have you seen Asil this morning? She is not in her bed, and I cannot find her"

"I know, sir. She's asleep in my room."

"In your room? For what reason?"

"She's been having nightmares, sir, ever since we were kidnapped. She woke me by accident last night, and I let her stay with me so she would sleep. She was exhausted."

"Why would she not tell me?"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe you should ask her."

"I suppose I must. Later. A lack of sleep could be detrimental to her health. For now, I will allow her to rest."

xxxxxxxxx

"You awake?"

"It is not logical to ask me that question, as I could not answer if I was not."

Tasha smiled. "Your father wants to speak with you."

"All right."

Tuvok sat down on the other side of the bed. "Why did you not tell me you were not sleeping?"

"I did not think it was important to you."

"The welfare of my children is always important to me." He looked at her for a moment. "There is more, is there not?"

She nodded slightly, gazing at the bedspread.. "It is an illogical emotional reaction. I did not want you to - to be displeased with me."

"Asil. I am not displeased. Look at me."

She raised her eyes to meet his.

"Asil, you are a young child who has suffered through a traumatic event. I was surprised that you seemed to be putting it behind you so easily. Now, I see that you were not, merely hiding your reactions. Next time, if there is a next time, I want you to speak to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

"Good. Now, the morning is half-gone. It is time that you begin your day."

"Yes, father."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha stared at the viewscreen in disbelief, at the message she'd just opened. Stared at it as if it might disappear if she looked away.

"What did they say?" Asil gazed up at Tasha from the floor.

"Yes," she whispered, shocked, "they said yes."

"You have been accepted?"

Hearing Asil say it seemed to drive it home for Tasha. "Yes. I have."

"Then your preparation for disappointment was unnecessary."

Tasha grinned widely. "Yes, I suppose it was."

**To preempt what I'm sure someone's thinking, yes, I still remember that Tuvok has three sons. But I've really enjoyed developing Tasha and Asil's relationship, and her age is part of that, so that's what I've focused on.**

**Please review.**


	9. Chapter Nine:  Unpleasant Truth

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Nine: Unpleasant Truth  
**_

"A medical exam? Why? I'm not sick."

"Not visibly," Tuvok pointed out, "but sometimes diseases can be hidden and invisible. And at any rate, it will be good for them to have a basic medical scan on record. Is there a problem?"

Tasha very nearly told him the truth; that the doctors at the children's center had been some of the worst people she'd ever known. She still remembered one man, the head doctor, who had taken great delight in ordering her to remove her clothes and forcing her to stand naked, in examining her in ways that had triggered her worst memories. At first, she'd thought that was just an abomination: even the most diligent medical exam Kate had done had never involved that kind of intrusion. But when she'd complained to the Supervisors, they'd told her that that was how a medical exam was supposed to be and used her own memories and feelings to prove she had a dirty mind. The last thing she wanted was for Tuvok to think the same thing.

"I just don't like being examined." It wasn't a lie.

"It is something you should become accustomed to. I realize you may be uncomfortable with it, but medical exams will be required at the Academy in any case. You might as well have the first one now. Attempt to practice your deep breathing. It will help."

"Thank you, sir." She doubted that, but she didn't want to argue, nor did she think she could without telling him the rest.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha sat silently in the waiting room, trying to practice what Tuvok had taught her. She really, really didn't want to be there.

"Cadet Yar?"

She stood silently.

"Through here, please. The doctor will be with you in a moment."

Tasha still said nothing. The doctor entered shortly thereafter, and Tasha relaxed slightly on seeing that it was a woman.

"We'll start with some general scans, try to get a general idea of any problems that might be present. If you'd just stand here."

Relieved that she wasn't being asked to undress, Tasha stood in the indicated spot, allowing the woman to scan her with a variety of instruments. At one point, she frowned and adjusted them.

"Well, that's about it. You're in perfect health, except -"

"Except what, Doctor?" Tasha spoke for the first time.

"When was your last monthly bleeding?"

"I'm not familiar with that term, Doctor. Are you saying I'm supposed to bleed every month?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

"No, why would I?"

The woman sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."

"What does that mean?" Tasha asked, although something in her told her she didn't want to hear the answer. "What is this bleeding, and why is it so important?"

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha sat curled on her bed, weeping silently, trying to make sense of the news she'd just been told. She was grateful it was Tuvok's day to teach and that T'Pel and Asil were out. The boys were home, but she wasn't that close to them. They wouldn't walk into her room; they'd have no reason to.

The doctor had tried to be kind, and Tasha had believed she was genuinely sympathetic, but there was no way to soften the blow, to tell her something so devastating without hurting her. Tasha didn't remember what had happened after the announcement, didn't remember getting here. All she knew was that she felt like someone had ripped a part of her away, leaving a gaping hole inside.

She had no concept of the passage of time. The only thing that alerted her to how much time had passed was a tap on her door. She ignored it.

"Tasha? Can I come in?"

"Not right now." God, the last thing she wanted was for Asil to see her in this state. As it was, she was sure the girl had heard the distress in her voice.

She was right. Not two minutes later, she heard another knock.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted.

"I do not believe that would be advisable." The door opened, and Tuvok stepped in. "Asil informed me that you seemed to be upset. What is the trouble?"

Tasha had intended to say it was nothing, but her voice caught in her throat, and a sob tore loose. He sat down on the bed next to her.

"Tell me."

The soft request shattered her fragile control, and she broke down, crying and shuddering. She was sure Tuvok would be displeased, what with his distaste for emotions. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, to see what she knew she would find in his face.

She felt a hand on her back, and heard the Vulcan's voice above her. "What is causing you such unhappiness?"

Surprisingly, there wasn't a hint of disgust in it. If anything, Tasha thought she heard a hint of concern. "I'm sorry," she whispered through her tears.

"You are normally quite calm, for a human. For something to upset you to this degree, it is almost certainly serious. What is it?"

She drew a breath to steady herself enough to speak. "You'll think it's silly."

"I believe I can - what is the expression - be the judge of that?"

"I'm grieving for something I never had, but had hoped to."

"Explain."

"The medical exam - the doctor told me I'm not able to bear children."

"And you had hoped to do so someday."

"Yes."

"Then it is not unreasonable to be upset by the realization that you will not be able to accomplish that goal."

Tasha tried to respond, but she couldn't keep back a fresh wave of tears.

Tuvok wasn't exactly sure why he hugged her. His only rationale was that it was clear she was in need of comfort and he didn't know how else to provide it. She leaned into his embrace and clutched at his shirt, clinging to him as if he was the only solid thing left in the world. He rubbed her back, imitating a gesture he'd seen between other humans. It seemed to work, because she relaxed in his arms and her wrenching sobs softened to gentle whimpers.

"Do you feel better?"

She nodded. "Thanks."

Tuvok could tell that her emotional anguish had exhausted her, and he gently helped her to lie down. "Sleep," he said quietly. "Just sleep."

Her eyes closed and her breathing evened. He fetched a damp cloth and wiped her tear-stained face. No reason to advertise her emotional breakdown.

If his wife noticed that he was wearing a different shirt that evening, she didn't mention it.

xxxxxxxxx

"Sir? May I talk to you?"

"Of course." He gestured to her to sit. "What do you wish to discuss?"

"It's about - it's about when I go to the Academy."

"That is not for several more months."

"I know. But I wanted to talk to you now."

"What, specifically, is this about?"

Tasha took a deep breath. "These past few months have been the best time of my life, and you and your family are the closest I've come to having a family of my own. When I go to the Academy, I won't be living here anymore, but -"

"Unless I am much mistaken, and I sincerely doubt that I am, the Academy does not operate year-round."

"You mean, I could stay here when I'm not at the Academy?"

"I assumed you were aware of that." Even as Tuvok said it, he realized his error. Tasha was used to being rejected and left to fend for herself, as she had been for ten years of her life. The idea of being taken care of was new to her.

"You have a home here, and a family with mine, for as long as you desire it."

Interesting, the Vulcan thought, that the dim twilight could create such an interesting effect on a person's eyes. Perhaps it had something to do with the color.

**I had alluded to the contents of this chapter in "Big Doors", and since it fit the timeline I wanted to include it here.**

**As for the medical exam, I tried to keep the terminology as mild as possible. I hope I didn't make anyone uncomfortable.  
**

**Please Review.**


	10. Chapter Ten: A Friend

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Ten: A Friend**_

It took Tasha only a matter of minutes to unpack her suitcase. Her personal possessions were few: the treasured doll, a few sets of civilian clothes, and a stack of PADDs loaded with books. Her uniforms were provided by the Academy.

So far, Tasha was alone in the room. Her roommate hadn't arrived yet, and she was grateful for the chance to set up by herself. She was somewhat concerned about the roommate in any case. The idea of sharing personal space with another person, especially a stranger, was disconcerting. Except for Phoebe Janeway, Tasha had never had friends her own age. She'd had few enough friends of any age.

Tasha glanced at the window. It was, perhaps, the best feature of the room, looking out over the grounds. Tasha immediately thought that the window seat would be a great place to read.

A loud thumping sound came from the hallway, and Tasha glanced up as she heard someone pressing the lock code on the door. It slid open, and a girl stood there, attempting to drag a huge suitcase through the door.

Well, they might as well get off on the right foot. Tasha rose quickly. "Need a hand with that?"

"Please."

As soon as she tried to lift her end of the suitcase, Tasha realized why the girl was having trouble. Not only was the suitcase huge, it was heavy.

"All right, I'll pull it in from this end, you push from the other end," Tasha suggested. The girl acquiesced and the two of them were able to force the object into the room.

"What's in here?" Tasha asked as the door, finally clear, hissed shut.

"No idea. My mother packed it for me." She smiled. "I'm Deanna Troi."

"Tasha Yar. Does your mother always pack like this?"

"Always. Let's see what she packed this time." Deanna laid the case down flat and opened it. The answer to what she had packed appeared to be a little of everything.

"So," Tasha said before she could think about it, "where'd she pack the kitchen sink?" She winced. "Sorry, that was probably tactless."

But Deanna was laughing. "No it wasn't, it was funny. Not to mention true. You're not quite comfortable with me, are you?"

"Uh, no, I'm not. How did you know?"

"I'm half-Betazoid. If that bothers you -"

"It doesn't. I've lived with telepaths before."

"You have?"

"Sure. My -" Tasha struggled for a term for a second, "foster family is Vulcan."

"At least Vulcans ask before they read people's minds."

"You don't?"

"I try to. I'm only an empath anyway - I can sense feelings but not specific thoughts. But my mother - dear God, my mother. She's a strong telepath, even for a Betazoid, and she never hesitated to use her abilities."

"What about your father?"

"My father was human, but he died when I was seven."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I'm sure you understand what it's like."

"I thought you couldn't make out individual thoughts."

"I can't. But you said you were living with a foster family, so-"

"Both my parents died when I was five."

"I may complain about my mother, but I don't know what I'd do without her." Deanna shook her head sadly. "I hope your foster family is nice, at least."

"They're the family I've always dreamed of ." Tasha smiled. "They've all but insisted I spend the holidays with them, even though I'm eighteen and they don't have any legal responsibility for me."

Deanna smiled kindly, and Tasha's anxiety vanished. She knew in that moment that they'd get along just fine.

xxxxxxxxx

"Are you sure you've got enough chocolate?" Tasha raised her eyebrows at her roommate's meal - chicken in chocolate sauce, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a huge chocolate sundae.

Deanna giggled. "I like chocolate."

"No kidding. Do you ever eat anything else?"

"Yes, of course. I eat it more when I'm in a new place. I'm looking for familiarity among the unfamiliar, I guess."

"Do you always psychoanalyze your food choices?"

She laughed. "I'm studying psychology. I have to start somewhere."

"Psychology? What for?"

"I want to be a counselor."

"So long as you don't start psychoanalyzing my food choices," Tasha replied with false levity. The truth was, she wasn't comfortable with counselors, not after the way she'd been treated by them at the center. But, she reminded herself, Deanna was _studying_ to be a counselor. She wasn't one yet. Deanna was nice, she knew that. Tasha just hoped Deanna would stay that way. After all, if Starfleet doctors were different from other doctors, and Tasha was beginning to suspect they were, maybe Starfleet counselors were different from other counselors?

"Tasha?"

"Hm?"

"You weren't listening to a word I was saying."

"Sorry. I got distracted. What did you say?"

"I asked what you're studying."

"Oh. Security."

xxxxxxxxx

"You want some help?"

Deanna looked up from the massive suitcase. "Don't you have anything to unpack?"

"Already did. Before you got here."

The dark-haired girl looked around the room. "Don't you own anything?"

"Why do I need to? You own enough for both of us."

Deanna smiled briefly but then sobered up. "Seriously. You have something like ten pieces of clothing, a doll. and a stack of PADDs. Didn't your foster family give you anything to take?"

"I've never had much use for things," Tasha admitted. "Frankly, this may sound silly to you but the amount I have almost seems excessive to me."

Deanna's eyes widened. "Really?"

"When I was growing up, it was a miracle if I had one change of clothes." Tasha hadn't really intended to tell her that, but there was something about Deanna that just made her open up easily.

"Where -" she started, but stopped herself. "Never mind, I won't ask. You'll tell me if you want me to know."

"I appreciate that. Who's that?" Tasha had spotted a picture of a man in Starfleet dress uniform and a woman in an elaborate dress who looked a lot like Deanna.

"My parents, on their wedding day. I'm just glad she put in one from the reception and not the ceremony."

"Why's that?"

Deanna giggled mischeviously. "I doubt it would have been appropriate for this environment."

"Why? What were they wearing?"

"Nothing."

"_What_?"

"Betazoid tradition. All weddings are performed with participants and guests completely naked."

"You're joking."

"Nope. Let's just say that on a world of telepaths, modesty is relative."

"I suppose so."

"No one's forced to go naked, of course. Occasionally, someone from offworld will attend dressed. But most of the time even offworlders end up going naked because they feel uncomfortable being the only one dressed." She grinned slyly. "It certainly gives the groom a nice view of his bride, and vice-versa."

"Right." Tasha was still struggling to get used to the idea of sex and sexuality being consensual and pleasurable for everyone involved, but she didn't think this was an appropriate moment to bring that up. "It must be fun for the friends who are getting married next month too."

Deanna laughed again. "That it is."

"How would you know?"

"Telepaths, remember?"

**So no one's confused, as far as I'm concerned EU novels are canon as long as they fit in with my ideas. So this chapter probably defies EU canon, but frankly I really don't care.**

**Please Review.**


	11. Chapter Eleven: The First Semester

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Eleven: The First Semester**_

"Hey, hey! Cadet! What are you doing?"

Tasha looked up to see an old man running at her. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"Don't call me sir. The name's Boothby. And don't you dare try to pick my tulips!"

"I wasn't, s- Boothby. I was just touching them.

"Touching them? What for?"

She shrugged. "I like the way the petals feel. I wasn't aware they belonged to anyone. If I had been, I would have asked first."

He got a slightly puzzled look on his face. "What in blazes do you mean, you like the way they feel?"

"They feel the way they look. Smooth, soft, and beautiful. I spent most of my life around ugliness. Beauty is something I've never taken for granted."

There was no anger in his eyes now. "I never thought of it quite like that. You have a name, I presume?"

"Cadet Natasha Yar. But most people just call me Tasha."

"Tasha it is, then. Now if you're really interested in flowers, there's a lot more I could show you."

xxxxxxxxx

"I don't expect we'll have many classes together," Deanna remarked.

"We might have a few this year," Tasha pointed out. "We'll both be in basics at first."

The two of them got into their room and simultaneously grabbed their PADDs, scrolling down them. "Astrotheory 101, Earth History, Beginning Psychology, and Survival Strategies," Deanna reported. "You?"

"Three out of four," Tasha replied. "I have Beginning Tactical Analysis instead of psychology."

"The real question: do we have them at the same time?" Deanna held out her PADD, and Tasha held hers out for comparison. "We have Survival Strategies at the same time. Maybe we can keep each other from going crazy."

"Going crazy?"

"It's hardly an easy class. And we've drawn Admiral Paris. I've heard horror stories about him."

Tasha almost laughed. "Don't worry, Deanna. There's nothing Admiral Paris, or any Survival Strategies course, can throw at me that I can't take."

"You're awfully confident."

"I have reason to be."

xxxxxxxxx

"The time is 0900 hours."

Deanna rolled over sleepily. "Tasha, can you shut that thing off?"

"The time is 0901."

"Not until you get up! We start classes today, remember?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." She sat up.

"The time is 0902."

"I'm up! Now can you shut that thing off?"

xxxxxxxxx

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Deanna sighed. "How was your first week?"

"Hard," she admitted. "For me anyway."

"Oh?" Deanna had the kind of personality that could make a person open up to her with one word, and she knew it. In fact, she was counting on it.

"Deanna, everything I know about any of these subjects, with the exception of Paris' class, I learned in the past three years. I could barely even read until three years ago. These classes are geared towards people who've studied the material their whole lives."

"I'm sure you can handle it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Tasha, you wouldn't have gotten in if you couldn't handle it."

"That's what I thought at first."

"I do think Earth History is geared too much towards an audience that already knows Earth."

"You don't?"

"I was raised on Betazed. I've hardly ever been to Earth, and never since my father died."

"Yeah well, I'll help you in Survival Skills, you can help me in Astrotheory, and - we'll just have to find someone else to help us in history. Can you believe we have to take five history classes?"

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me, Admiral?"

It was two months into the semester, and Tasha had been called to the office of Admiral Paris. From her first few classes, she'd gotten the idea that the man didn't really like her. His attitude now seemed to support that.

"Yes. Please, Cadet, take a seat."

She sat stiffly. "What is this about? Sir," she tacked on a moment later.

"I'll be blunt, Cadet. You're on the verge of failing this class."

"Excuse me, sir?"

He pulled out a PADD and showed it to her. Her latest assignment. "This isn't at all what I was looking for. This says to me that you're paying no attention to any of the materials."

Tasha searched her brain for the phrase Tuvok had taught her once he'd become aware of her opinionated nature. She came up with it quickly. "Admiral, permission to speak freely."

"I welcome it."

"Sir, what is the purpose of this class? Why are all cadets required to take it?"

The Admiral sighed, anticipating another cadet whine-fest about how unfair it was that they had to take a class unrelated to their area. "Anyone can plausibly be placed in a situation where he or she is alone and cut off from aid. It is imperative that they be able to survive until help arrives."

"Then the purpose of the class is to learn to survive?"

"That is correct, Cadet."

"Then, with all due respect, that's what you should be grading on. Not whether I'm perfectly in tune with the materials and standard procedures," she all but spat the last two words, "but with whether or not I would survive doing what I put in these assignments."

He paused for a second, getting a slow smile on his face. "All right, then. Let's see it." He took the PADD and linked it into the computer. "Computer, analyze input data and predict likelihood of survival as compared to standard responses."

"Working. Calculations complete. Likelihood of survival five point three seven percent greater than standard practices."

The Admiral's eyebrows raised. "I'm impressed, Cadet. If you don't mind my asking, where did you learn your - alternative methods?"

"Permission to sp-"

"Please do."

"Starfleet Command made up these rules from a desk, based on simulations and controlled situations. I grew up fighting for my life, and I can tell you that no holodeck can prepare you for the real thing. When you're out there on your own, there are variables that a computer can't account for."

The Admiral stared at her for a long moment without speaking. "If that's so, I might have to revise my curriculum a bit. Cadet Yar?"

She didn't fail to notice that he'd called her by her name. "Sir?"

"When that time comes, I may need a more experienced eye to look over my modifications. Do you know anyone who might be qualified?" He smiled, and Tasha no longer felt any animosity from him.

"I might know someone, sir." She grinned back.

**FYI: I'll be sort of skimming over Tasha's academy years, delving into what's important but not covering the whole four years in detail.**

**I'm really sorry about how long this took. Finals took over my life and left me with a bad case of writer's block. A plot bunny for a RENT fanfic cured that, but then I had to write the RENT story before I could focus on this one or **_**Big Doors**_**. Apologies to anyone on my author alert list who got an alert for that story and isn't into that fandom.**

**I recently began thinking that I'll continue this story and **_**Big Doors**_** until the end of **_**All Good Things**_**, at which point I would end both stories and merge the timelines, beginning a third story as a sequel to these two. Anyone passionately for or against this? Let me know.**

**Please Review.**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Shuttle Down

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twelve: Shuttle Down**_

"I am never flying with you again!"

"I wasn't that bad, Deanna!"

"Oh no? Seriously, Tasha, you do not know how to fly that thing."

"Can I help it if I've never flown an actual shuttle before?"

"Cadet Yar, a word." The piloting instructor was standing behind them.

Deanna shot Tasha a look that was half smug, half sympathetic and turned away. "I'll see you later."

"What do you need, sir?"

"I couldn't fail to notice your difficulty."

"Is it really as bad as my roommate says?"

"You're not the first cadet to have a little trouble with real shuttles, as opposed to simulated ones. You just need a little tutoring."

"Tutoring?"

"One of your classmates has a particular aptitude for flight. We prefer peer-to-peer tutoring. Report back here at 1400 Thursday."

"Yes, sir."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was hardly pleased by her new partner. He was one of the men on campus known for chasing a new girl every week and flirting with others in between. He introduced himself but she wasn't really paying attention, and she got the sense that he wasn't paying attention to her name either, though likely for a different reason.

"All right, show me how much you do know."

She replied with as few words as possible and they got the shuttle in the air. They were only flying the standard route; it wasn't likely to take long, and Tasha was grateful for that. She didn't want to spend a second longer around this cocky cadet than she had to.

They'd been at warp for about ten minutes when Tasha noticed something. "Either there's a problem with the navigational sensors or..."

"Or what?"

The ship lurched violently, and they could see through the viewscreen that they'd come out of warp. "Or there's a problem with the ship," Tasha finished unnecessarily.

"No shit." He hopped into the main pilot's seat. "See if you can get a fix on our position."

"We're more than a light-year off-course. That's what I was going to tell you." She rattled off a series of coordinates just as something exploded behind them.

"We're in trouble!" He frantically pressed a few buttons. "I can't hold her together. Can you find a place for us to set down?"

Tasha accessed the sensors. "I'm reading a Class M planet about a thousand kilometers from here, but it's completely uninhabited."

"We don't have a choice," the pilot said grimly. "I don't dare take her to warp, not in this condition. What are the coordinates?"

Tasha rattled them off, and he started pressing more buttons. In a few moments, the planet loomed before them.

"I'm taking her in. Brace for impact."

Tasha grabbed the console in front of her and hung on. The shuttle plunged through the atmosphere. The pilot continued making adjustments, apparently trying to land as smoothly as possible.

But smooth was the last word Tasha would have used to describe their landing. The ship plowed into the planet and then skimmed roughly along the surface, hit a particularly rough spot, and flipped end-over-end, coming to rest upside-down.

With an expertise learned from years of rough treatment and reinforced by her security training, Tasha was able to tuck and roll when she was thrown from her seat, landing on the roof of the shuttle relatively unharmed. The pilot was not so lucky. He flopped out of his chair and was tossed about like a rag doll.

When the shaking and jolting stopped, Tasha looked up. The young man lay sprawled on the floor. She hurried over to him.

"Hey." This would've been a lot easier if she could remember his name. "Hey. You all right?"

Light blue eyes blinked open. "Just dandy. What happened?"

"Our landing didn't turn out quite the way we planned."

"Ow." He tried to sit up and groaned.

"What hurts?"

"Why do you care?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we're all alone down here. Someone's got to take care of you."

"I think my leg's broken, and everything hurts. I feel like I got run over by a pickup truck."

"A what?"

"Never mind."

She knelt over him. "Which leg?"

"The left. Yes, that one. Ow!" He yelled as she touched it.

"Sorry. You're right, it's broken. I'm going to have to immobilize that. Now, besides the generic 'everything hurts', is there anywhere else you're feeling a particularly strong pain?"

"My right shoulder and side."

Tasha carefully probed at both areas, jerking back when he moaned in pain. "Your collarbone and a few ribs are broken too. Wait here, I need to find something to treat you."

She returned with two long pieces of plastic that she'd pulled from the paneling of the shuttle and as much bandaging as she could find.

"Replicator's out," she reported, carefully splinting his leg with the plastic strips. "Stay off that," she added. "It's only immobilized, not fixed. And I'm going to have to immobilize your right arm too." She managed to create a sling with one of the bandages. "That'll keep you from doing more damage to your collarbone."

"Can I sit up now?"

"I don't see why not, as long as you're careful."

He did. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, we'll start with me admitting I forgot your name."

This got a small smile out of him. "It's Tom. Tom Paris."

"Tasha Yar. Now I'm going to go have a look around. Try not to move too much."

"Yes, ma'am."

She crawled out through the dented hatch and looked around. The planet was barren, all sand and rock.

First things first. They'd need water. There was no telling how long they'd be stranded. At least she didn't have to worry about attackers.

An hour of exploring, however, turned up nothing in the way of water or edible plant life. Tasha had to turn back before she got too far from the shuttle. In the event of a rescue, she'd need to stay close so she'd be easy to find.

She returned, however, to find an unexpected problem. Tom was sitting slumped over, breathing raggedly. Instantly, Tasha was at his side.

"Tom? What is it?"

"I don't know - everything hurts. Everything really hurts."

"You may be bleeding internally." She tried desperately not to think of Turkana, of the people she'd seen die of injuries like Tom's. This was the Federation, they had doctors, he'd be fine.

"I'm really thirsty. I can't reach the storage bins without standing up. Would you mind...?"

Almost instantly, she'd procured and opened a water packet. He took it in his left hand and brought it to his lips, drinking greedily. "Thanks."

Tasha decided not to tell him that she hadn't been able to find water. He didn't need to know how bad their situation was.

"Some piloting lesson, huh?"

He grinned at her. "Maybe it's turned into a Survival Skills crash course instead." He fidgeted a little. "I suppose I ought to tell you I only got a B-minus in that class."

"It's okay. I got an A."

"Impressive. I've heard it's almost impossible."

"Well, let's just say I've had a lot of experience. Don't worry. This isn't the worst place I've ever been." Something suddenly occurred to her. "Wait, you said your name was Paris? As in, a relative of the teacher teaching the same class you got the B-minus in?"

"Don't remind me. Dad doesn't play favorites."

"Anyway, you're good at piloting, aren't you? I'm terrible at it. Survival Skills and my security and tactical classes are the only thing I'm good at. I only passed Astrotheory because my roommate was helping me, and I can't imagine how I passed Earth History, to say nothing of how I'll pass the other four classes. My roommate's Betazoid, she knows no more about it than I do."

"Not to brag, but Earth history is a hobby of mine. I could help you with that too."

"Hopefully it'll turn out better than our piloting lessons. And I could help you in survival."

xxxxxxxxx

Tom laughed lightly as he woke, causing Tasha to look at him strangely.

"I've ended up sleeping in odd places before, but I've never woken up on a ceiling."

Tasha giggled too. "You hungry?"

"For rations? Not really, no. If you could get down some water, though..."

"I'm on it."

"How did you manage to come off so easy? Thanks," he added as she gave him the water.

"Training. And a lot of practice."

"Been in many shuttle crashes?"

"No. But I've been in enough tough situations to learn basic skills like that one."

"That's what you said yesterday about survival skills. What kind of practice do you have for stuff like this?"

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

"Okay," she acquiesced. "Where do I start?"

"Try just starting where it feels right."

"Okay, then. It all started when I was about three..."

**I was originally going to put Tasha's story in this chapter, but it was going to be about five gazillion words long so I broke it here. The next chapter should be up shortly, and then Tom's story is the chapter after that, which should be up within a week.  
**

**I am aware that some of this is copy-pasted out of **_**Big Doors**_**, which will also be true for the next chapter. Feel free to skim over those bits.**

**Please review.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Tasha's Story

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Thirteen: Tasha's Story**_

"I was born on a planet called Turkana Four. Some parts were uninhabitable, but there was one continent that was a temperate zone, which was where the colony was. It was always between about twenty and thirty-five degrees, and there were beaches pretty much everywhere. There was one, it was a quick transport from our house so my mom always took me there. My dad was usually too busy to come, he had some important job, but he was with us that day..."

_"Smile for the holo-imager, sweetie." Tasha's father held up the camera, and her mother swung her out of the waves. She waved and her father snapped shots._

_"What do you want to do now?"_

_"Jump! Jump wave!"_

_The woman was accustomed enough to three-year-old speak to know what her daughter wanted. She lowered the girl so her feet were touching the bottom, keeping careful hold of her arms. As a wave came, she bounced the laughing child over it._

_Tasha heard a strange sound suddenly, a whine. Then someone screamed._

_"Stay right there," her father yelled as he ran to check. A moment later, he ran back. "Come on. We're getting out of here."_

_"What happened?"_

_"I'll explain later."_

"I didn't know it at the time, but the government on Turkana had been destabilizing for the last few years, and it was getting worse. Someone had been shot on the beach that day - I still don't know who it was, and I probably never will. But my parents were suddenly whispering around me all the time. They never told me anything, until one day a year later they told me something that I thought was the reason for all the secrecy..."

_"Tasha, come here. Sit down. Your dad and I have something to tell you."_

_"What is it, mommy?"_

_"You have a little sister."_

_"A sister? Where is she?"_

_"Inside mommy's tummy," her father interjected._

_"Why is she in there? Mommy, you ate her?" Tasha was horrified._

_"No, no, sweetie. When babies are first made, they're too tiny to be out in the world, so they grow in their mommies' tummies. You grew in my tummy too."_

_"When does she come out?"_

_"In seven months."_

_"What's her name?"_

_"Ishara."_

"But my mom getting bigger wasn't the only change around. The fighting in the streets was getting more and more prevalent every day. I was never allowed outside anymore, but I could hear the shots and the yelling.

"My mom had the baby in March, a few months before my fifth birthday. In September, things changed forever..."

_"Be quiet, Ishara. Mommy will be home soon." Tasha's little sister had been crying for almost an hour, and it was making her head hurt. She wondered where her parents were. She wanted her mom to come and make Ishara be quiet._

_She made a decision. Even though she knew it was against the rules, she left the house. She was only going down to her mother's office to tell her to come quiet Ishara down. She knew the way._

_She saw a crowd of people gathered around something. She rushed over to take a peek, and promptly started screaming._

_Her parents lay there, on the sidewalk. Their bodies were riddled with phaser fire._

Tasha broke off abruptly, drawing a deep, shuddering breath. Tom slid over to her with no small amount of difficulty and took her hand in his left one. "I'm so sorry."

"My dad had friends from his job, and one of them took us in. But he had worked for the government, and the cadres - the new power groups - were targeting government officials. By December, they were dead too, the house demolished, and Ishara and I were alone, trying desperately to find food and shelter." She took a deep breath. "This next part is kinda hard to talk about."

"Take your time." If it was worse than the bodies of her parents, Tom knew it had to be awful.

"The poverty, the lack of food, the struggle for survival, brought out the worst in people. I didn't have the capacity to understand at first, but it was - made clear to me less than a year later."

_"Nice, quiet place. Small. No one will find us here." The man leered at her._

_"What are you doing with me?" The six-year-old's eyes were wide with fear._

_"You're a very pretty girl. How would you like enough money to feed yourself and your sister for a week?"_

_"I would like it very much." She was trying to remember the manners her mother had taught her._

_"Come here." The man began to slide off her shirt._

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Just be quiet, and when I'm done I'll give you the money."_

_His hand roamed her body, sliding her pants off. She tried to run, but she was trapped. She couldn't get herself out._

_She closed her eyes, praying for it to end. It hurt so much, and something inside her cried out that this was wrong, very wrong, but there was nothing she could do except to cry._

_When he was done, he pulled up his pants and dropped a handful of coins beside her, as though he'd done nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until years later that she would realize that for him, raping a six-year-old girl might very well have been normal. In that moment, all she could do was dress, collect the money, and hurry back to Ishara. She couldn't leave her sister alone too long._

While Tasha had been talking, Tom's left arm had snaked around her shoulders and he'd pulled her against his uninjured side. She leaned into him, tears pricking at her eyes.

"Bastard," he whispered, and even through her pain she felt relief that he was mad at him and not disgusted at her. Despite Tuvok's reassurances, part of her still had all the words the Center's counselors had told her running through her mind.

"I'll keep going. Just give me a second."

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me any more."

"No, Tom. Let me talk."

He squeezed her shoulders in a silent gesture of support, and she continued. "That was the first time, but it wasn't the last. Men started to band together to form gangs with the express purpose of catching women. I learned to run, to hide, even as I was learning to survive, but it only worked so much. Sometimes I couldn't avoid them, and sometimes the only way to protect Ishara was to let myself be caught." She bit her lip. "I never told her, of course. She never knew why it was she was never caught. But when I was fourteen and my sister was nine, she decided she was tired of the life we were living. Don't get me wrong, I was sick of it too. But she decided to do something about it, something I could never understand..."

_"Ishara, where have you been?"_

_Her sister was smiling. "We don't have to stay here anymore, Tasha."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"I joined the Coalition, Tasha."_

_"You did what?"_

_"You can join too. They have food, shelter, protection, everything. We won't have to live like this."_

_"How could you, Ishara? Those cadres are the reason our parents are dead. How can you join them?"_

_"Well, it would be better than the way we live now!"_

_"At what cost? Absolutely not!"_

_"You're afraid, aren't you? Run and hide, run and hide, that's all you know how to do. Well, have fun running and hiding, because from now on, you're running and hiding alone."_

_"And you have fun killing the parents of other children!" Tasha knew it was harsh, but she was still stinging from her sister's comment._

_Ishara didn't respond. She just turned and walked away._

"I tried to keep going, but it was a lot harder without Ishara. I'd never been completely alone until she left. About eight months later I did what I'd promised myself I'd never do. I tried drugs." She caught the shocked look in Tom's eyes. "The dealer promised they'd make me forget. I really, really wanted to forget. A drug-induced haze was preferable to reality. I'd been using for about a year, and one day I couldn't find anything to trade for my fix. I saw someone walking down the street, someone who looked like he might have a little money..."

_Tasha tackled the man, slamming him to the ground, raining down blows. She needed his money. Without the money, she wouldn't be able to get what she needed._

_"Just give me the money," she hissed threateningly, "and we can forget this ever happened."_

_"I need that money to feed my family," he insisted. "You'll have to kill me to get it."_

_"Then I'll kill you." She rolled him over and grabbed his shirt, pulling him up, preparing to smash his head into the ground. His eyes locked on hers, and she saw his terror. It was familiar. She'd seen it reflected in the eyes of the rape gangs. Reflected from her own eyes._

_Gasping, she released him, letting him fall. "Oh God," she whispered. "What have I done? What have I become?"_

_She could feel the pain of withdrawal beginning to creep up on her, but she didn't care. She never, never wanted to see that terror in anyone else's eyes again. She never wanted to become her own worst enemy._

"I spent days throwing up everything I ate, shivering and sweating. But every time I was tempted, I thought of that man, and I knew I was never going back. And then a few weeks later, something happened that I never could have imagined."

_She curled up in a tiny corner between two buildings, shivering from the cold, trying to wrap the remains of her shredded clothing around herself. Hot tears slid down her cheeks._

_They had caught her. She had been so intent on getting away from the men that she hadn't realized she was being chased into a dead end. They had blocked her in and had their way with her. They had torn her clothes off her, beaten her, and raped her, one after another, all of them coming back again and again, for no reason except because they could. It had taken them hours to finally tire of this sport. Then they had run off, leaving her injured, hurting, and almost naked. Only sheer willpower had allowed her to get to a safer place before her strength gave out completely._

_Her head snapped up when she heard footsteps. A lot of footsteps, all running. She heard voices too. They were speaking too softly for her to make out the words, but she knew that it could only be another rape gang._

_Maybe they wouldn't notice her. Maybe -_

_"There's someone there." A member of the group turned. A light was shined right into the corner where she was hiding._

_"What are you doing there?" one man demanded. "You were eavesdropping!"_

_"No. I wasn't. Please -" She wanted to beg them to leave, not to hurt her when she was already hurting so badly, but the words wouldn't come. "Please -"_

_"Commander." The voice was sharp, but what shocked Tasha was that it was female. The rape gangs were always all men. Maybe she was just mishearing the voice. "It's possible she really wasn't eavesdropping. We're in a public space, she could be here for any number of reasons."_

_"If you're not eavesdropping, then why are you here?"_

_"Sir." That was another female-sounding voice. "I think she's hurt."_

_The person who had spoken stepped into the light, and Tasha saw that she was unmistakably female. She was a young woman with blond hair that curled above her shoulders, and Tasha for the first time noticed her clothes and the clothes of the rest of the group. Except for differences in color, they all matched perfectly, and they seemed to be in perfect repair. Tasha realized that these people weren't like anyone she'd ever met._

_The blond woman stepped forward and knelt down in front of Tasha. She pulled a small device from a case she was carrying. She pulled a small cylindrical object from the device and waved it over the length of Tasha's body._

_"My God!" The woman was staring at the device in shock. "What in the world happened to you?" She turned. "Commander, I'm taking her back to the ship. This girl is seriously injured and needs medical attention." She pressed her badge, which made a chirping sound. "Two to beam directly to Sickbay." She reached out and took Tasha's hand. "It's going to be all right, honey."_

_Tasha felt a strange tingling sensation, and then, inexplicably, she was sitting in a brightly-lit room full of cots and large screens._

_The woman helped her to her feet and helped her lie down on one of the cots. "Can you tell me how you were hurt?"_

_Tasha didn't see any reason to lie. "I was caught by a rape gang."_

_The woman's face flashed with sudden anger. "You mean someone did this deliberately? And raped you on top of it?"_

_"Yes, actually a group of people." Tasha winced when the woman seemed to become even more angry. "I'm sorry."_

_"You poor darling." The woman laid a gentle hand on Tasha's cheek. "Don't you dare apologize. It's them who should be apologizing." She grabbed another device. "You've got a couple of cracked ribs. This will heal that. What's your name?"_

_"Tasha Yar."_

_"I'm Kate Pulaski, Chief Medical Officer, USS _Saratoga._" She picked up another instrument. "This will heal the superficial injuries." It took her a minute to finish, there were so many. "Now, how about something to eat? You're much too thin."_

_Tasha hadn't eaten in days, and she was so hungry her stomach ached. The idea of food was so tempting, but she didn't dare do anything but come clean. "I don't have anything to give you."_

_"I'm not asking for anything. Now, I know you're hungry, I saw how you reacted when I mentioned food." She walked over to a box installed in the wall. "Pulaski's Chicken Soup and a sourdough roll."_

_Tasha stared in amazement as the requested items shimmered into existence. The doctor placed the plate in front of her. "Eat, you need it."_

_Her hunger outweighed her apprehension. She inhaled the entire meal in a few short minutes. She'd never tasted such wonderful food in her life._

_"I want you here overnight," the doctor said. "Who do you live with?"_

_"I don't live with anyone."_

_"No, I mean, who normally takes care of you?"_

_"I take care of myself."_

_The woman - Kate - seemed surprised. "How old are you?"_

_"Fifteen."_

_"Where are your parents?"_

_"They were killed ten years ago. We moved in with some other people but then they were killed too. After that, I had to take care of my sister."_

_"What kind of a place is this?" She quickly reverted to her professional manner. "Where's your sister? I don't want to leave a child alone down there."_

_"I haven't seen her in weeks. She joined the Coalition."_

_Kate seemed to sense that the subject was sensitive; at any rate, she didn't ask any more questions. "You stay here, then. I don't want you going back to that planet until I can find a way to make you safer."_

_"I don't want to go back, Doctor." Tasha winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Why had she said that? She already owed the woman so much and here she was asking for more._

_"I don't blame you." The doctor's kind expression didn't change. "There is another option."_

_"What is it?" Tasha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Would she really be able to leave as she had longed to do for so many years?_

_"The Federation has set up systems to help orphaned children. I could turn you over to them at our next starbase. They'd help find you a foster family to live with, someone to take care of you until you're legally an adult."_

_"And you'd do that for me?"_

_"Of course I would."_

_"Why are you doing all this? I can't give you anything in return."_

_"Tell me something, Tasha. When you took care of your sister, did you expect anything in return?"_

_"Of course not!"_

_"I'm taking care of you the way you took care of your sister. Not because I'm going to get anything out of it, but because it's the right thing to do, and because I care about you."_

_"Is this what it's like?" Tasha whispered._

_"What what's like?"_

_"Having a mother. I barely remember mine. I've always wondered what it was like."_

_Kate's eyes filled with tears. "Come here." She opened her arms and Tasha slowly leaned into them. For some inexplicable reason, she felt safe there._

_"I hope it is," Kate whispered, stroking Tasha's hair. "God knows you deserve to have one."_

"Kate was true to her word. She made arrangements to take me back. But there was one thing I had to do first."

_Tasha was good at not being seen. Even so, sneaking into Coalition headquarters was dangerous. She clutched at the communicator she held. They had told her to call for transport when she accomplished her mission or if she got into trouble._

_She saw a familiar silhouette and stepped out in front of her. Ishara came to a sudden halt. "Tasha! What are you doing here?"_

_"Ishara, I have a way out."_

_"Out of the Coalition? I'm not-"_

_"Off of Turkana. We could start over."_

_"So you're leaving."_

_"Yes. And I'm taking you with me."_

_"No, you're not. You may be running on an epic scale but I don't have to join you."_

_"Ishara, are you crazy? Listen to yourself. What I'm offering-"_

_"Get out. Now."_

_"Ishara!"_

_The next thing she knew, her sister was screaming up the tunnel. "Intruder! Intruder alert!"_

_Tasha stared at her sister in a moment of shock and indecision. Then she heard footsteps and knew she was out of time._

_"_Saratoga_, one to beam up. I'm sorry, Ishara."_

_She felt the transporter take hold, and her sister disappeared from her vision, replaced by the _Saratoga_'s transporter room._

"For two days, I didn't leave Sickbay. Kate was the only person I trusted. I hid from other patients. Then one day an ensign - actually a cadet on a work assignment, but he was an acting ensign as long as he was on the ship - walked in..."

_"And what happened to you?" Kate asked the tall man as he sat down._

_"I, uh, slipped."_

_She raised her eyebrow at his tone. "Care to elaborate?"_

_He mumbled something._

_"Didn't catch that."_

_"I was training on the holodeck."_

_"With the safeties off."_

_"Uh..."_

_"I'll take that as a yes. You know I'll have to report this to the Captain."_

_"I'm not on this ship."_

_"Ah. The _Livingston_?" She named the ship the _Saratoga_ was partnered with._

_Tasha couldn't see him but she figured he'd nodded, because Kate spoke again. "Then I'll be reporting this to Captain Dax."_

_"Right." He glanced over his shoulder. "Is this the new efficiency policy, Doctor?"_

_"Ensign?"_

_"Keeping patients under the beds as well as on them?"_

_Kate glanced over to see that Tasha was, indeed, hiding under the bed. "I think that one was her idea."_

_"Maybe we ought to incorporate that in engineering too, huh?"_

_Tasha said nothing. She was frozen._

_Kate whispered something to him, and he whispered something back._

_"Tasha, may I present Acting Ensign Benjamin Sisko. Ensign, Tasha Yar."_

_"How do you do, madam?" he asked. "I'd offer you my hand but I doubt Dr. Pulaski would approve."_

_"You're right, I wouldn't. Hold still!"_

_"Hello," she finally whispered. Kate's eyebrow raised. Tasha hadn't said two words to anyone but her in all the time she'd been on board, and never spoke at all unless it was absolutely necessary._

_"Why don't you come out from under there? I can barely see you."_

_Tasha's first instinct was to refuse. But Kate was there, and Kate wouldn't let anything happen. She scooted out about five feet. Kate looked even more shocked. Benjamin tried earnestly not to laugh, but a chuckle escaped anyway._

_"Uh, maybe you could try standing up?"_

_Slowly, she unfolded herself and got to her feet. She actually preferred it this way - they were about eye level with each other now, though Tasha knew he'd be taller if he was standing._

_"So, how much of the ship have you seen?"_

_"Only here and the transporter room."_

_"Maybe I could show you a bit more. I'm off-duty now."_

_Tasha's eyes widened. She'd found herself inexplicably liking this man, but be alone with him? She looked at him for a second, then dove under another biobed._

_"Maybe you two could confine your interactions to Sickbay for now," Kate suggested._

_"Yeah, maybe. Can I get off this bed now?"_

_"Just be careful."_

_He knelt next to Tasha, careful not to get too close. "Sorry. I didn't mean to move too fast. I just wanted to do a favor for you."_

_She nodded lightly._

_"I get off-shift again at 2100. Will you still be here?"_

_Another nod._

_"I'll see you then. And call me Ben."_

"I don't know what it was that made me trust him. I just did. Within a day, I'd taken him up on the offer of a tour. Then two days after that..."

_"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. Ben had been giving her odd looks all day._

_"I can't get over how pretty you look."_

_Tasha had been called pretty before, but it had always been leering and sexual. But when Ben said it, it was gentle, kind, not perverted or selfish at all._

_"Tasha, I - well, that is, would you mind..."_

_"What?"_

_"Can I kiss you?"_

_Tasha's first instinct was to say no. Every man who'd ever kissed her had done so painfully, cruelly. But he was different. So she nodded, slowly._

_He took her cheek in his hand and tilted her face up. Then he bent over and touched his lips to hers._

_Tasha had been right to think this one would be different. There was no force at all behind this, only loving tenderness. When he pulled away, she stared, wide-eyed._

_"First kiss?" he asked her._

_"Yeah, pretty much."_

_"You know, I've found the first kiss is sometimes lacking a little. Shall we try again?"_

_The second kiss was every bit as gentle as the first._

_"I really like you, Tasha."_

_She smiled. "I like you."_

_Ben's watch beeped, and he groaned._

_"What's that?"_

_"Ten-minute warning. It's almost time for my shift. Come on, I'll walk you back to Sickbay."_

_He took her hand, and she smiled at him._

"Ben and I dated for two weeks, until the _Livingston_ split off from the _Saratoga_. We talked once, right before I went to the children's center. But once I was there, both he and Kate just sort of disappeared."

"But you must have had other friends at the center."

"Not really. It wasn't really what I expected."

_"So, let's start with your childhood. You were orphaned when you were five?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then what happened?"_

_"I learned how to survive, how to avoid the rape gangs."_

_"Rape gangs? Tell me more about them."_

_"Well, they're what they sound like. They run around looking for women to attack."_

_"How many encounters did you have with these gangs?"_

_"I didn't keep count."_

_"How often were you caught?"_

_"Sometimes."_

_"You said you'd learned to avoid them."_

_"I had, most of the time. But there were so many of them, it was impossible to avoid all of them all the time."_

_"So you say."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"How did you feel when these attacks," he said the word with more than a hint of sarcasm, "happened?"_

_"It hurt, I was scared."_

_"Really? Because I think you enjoyed it."_

_"What?"_

_"Why else would you have been caught so many times, even when you say you knew how to get away."_

_"No! That's not true!"_

_"Calm down."_

_"Calm down? I didn't want it! They attacked me!"_

_The counselor pushed a few buttons and two guards raced in. "She needs to be kept apart until she can calm down." She pressed another button and a door hissed open. A closet._

_"No! No!" She fought desperately, but it was no use. Three so-called therapists held her fast._

_"There, there. You just need somewhere to cool down. You can come out when you're being reasonable."_

_They threw her in a closet, ignoring her terrified pleading. She'd only screamed louder and longer when the doors closed, haunted by the memory of the first time she'd been raped, confined in a small, dark space. They left her in there for sixteen hours until she'd worn herself out._

"It was two years of that. My only hope was Starfleet, and they rejected my application because of all the nonsense they'd put on my record."

"They lied, you know."

"On my record? I'm well aware-"

"No, to you. It wasn't your fault, Tasha. No one with a brain would say it was."

"Starfleet rejected my application." She went on, trying to ignore the unease Tom's interjection had stirred in her. "So I had to come up with another way." She told Tom about Tuvok and how he'd helped her and taken her in, and about Admiral Janeway and how he'd all but forced the exam board to grant her a rare exception to the rules. By the end, Tom's eyes were wide.

"My God, I had no idea."

"I warned you it was a long story."

"I'm glad you told it to me. But why? You hardly know me."

"I don't know," she admitted. "My roommate - she's studying psychology - would probably say I needed to talk, and because of that, once I started talking I couldn't stop. So now you know. You know what I was."

"I know what you are," he corrected. "Most Admirals wouldn't last a day under those conditions. No one has a right to judge you for not coming out of it a saint. You're probably the strongest person I've ever met." He squeezed her shoulders. "And you'd better not believe what those idiot counselors told you about it being your fault."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Tell you what, I'll tell you my story. That way I can't blackmail you without you blackmailing me."

She giggled. "If you want to."

"Why not? My story actually starts before I was born..."

**When I said shortly, I meant it. This was mostly written before I'd even posted the last chapter.**

**Please review.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Tom's Story

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Fourteen: Tom's Story**_

"I come from a long line of Parises in Starfleet, my dad, who you know, being the latest. So it was my dad's dream to have at least one kid in Starfleet. So my story really starts with my sisters deciding not to be in Starfleet. Anyway, my dad was determined to have one child there, so he was planning my future from the moment he found out my mom was pregnant. Not that anything with my life ever went according to plan."

_Owen Paris raced down the hall at the civilian hospital, almost knocking over a nurse. Anyone who was familiar with the Admiral would have assumed he was either an imposter or possessed. But he was neither. What he was was a man in a panic._

_He finally found the correct room, only to be prevented from entering by two nurses. He tried to push past, but they held him back._

_"What happened?" he demanded._

_One of the doctors took pity on him. "She's in early labor."_

_"Labor? But she's only six months along."_

_"I know. But there's nothing we can do to stop it. She'll have to deliver now."_

_"Now?"_

_"You'll need to make use of the sonic sterilizer, and then you can join her."_

_Numbly, he allowed himself to be led to the sterilizer, and then to Julia Paris' side. "Honey?"_

_Her face was a haze of pain and fear. "Owen..."_

_"Shh." He reached out and touched her forehead as she moaned through another contraction._

_"She's fully dilated," the nurse reported._

_"Get her onto the birthing chair," the doctor ordered. The nurse took one of her arms, Owen took the other, and they helped her onto the chair._

_"All right, you should feel an urge to push. Just go with it."_

_She did, crying out and clutching at her husband's hand. Perhaps because the baby was so small, it took less than an hour before the delivery was complete._

_"It's a boy," the doctor told the parents._

_"A boy - I have a son." Owen stared at the bundle in shock._

_"You can hold him for a minute, then we'll have to get him down to intensive care. Do you have a name in mind?"_

_"Thomas. Thomas Eugene Paris."_

"I spent four months in the ICU before I was big enough to survive on my own. As soon as I left, my dad resumed his plans for me. I was six the first time he took me flying on a holodeck..."

_"Okay, Tom. You want to try flying now?"_

_The ever-eager boy scrambled over to the controls and did something that might possibly have blown up or crashed a real ship, but fortunately they were on a holodeck and the safeties were on._

_"No, Tom, you have to sit in the chair and do exactly what I tell you, okay?"_

_"Okay, Daddy."_

_Two hours and a decent flying session later, father and son beamed into their house. Tom released his father's hand and ran off to tell his mother and sisters about his flying experience. When Owen found his wife ten minutes later, she was having her ear talked off by the six-year-old._

_"I heard it went well," she said, smiling._

_"An understatement." He leaned over his son to kiss his wife. "He's likely to be the best pilot Starfleet's seen in several years at least. What do you think, Tommy? Are you going to be in Starfleet like Daddy?"_

_"Would I get to fly more ships?"_

_Owen smiled and swung his son into the air. "Many more ships."_

_"I wanna be in Starfleet!"_

_Owen put his son down and ruffled his hair. "That's my boy."_

_"Tommy, can you tell your sisters to get ready for dinner?" Julia asked. The boy scampered off, but not before hearing the first strains of an argument between his parents._

"I didn't know why they were arguing, any more than - any more than you understood why your parents were whispering so much. But I figured it out soon enough. My mother didn't like how my father kept pushing me towards Starfleet. We had our first major argument on that very subject when I was twelve."

_"Tom, what's this?" Owen pulled a flier from his son's bag. "Federation Naval Service?"_

_"I want to go into the Service when I grow up."_

_"I thought you were going to go into Starfleet, weren't you?"_

_"I - I was, but you know how much I love the sea..."_

_"You are going into Starfleet."_

_"Dad -"_

_"That's final, young man!"_

_"Mom always says I can be whatever I want to be!"_

_"Do not use your mother against me!'_

_"What is going on in here?" Julia came running in._

_"Mom, you always said I could be whatever I wanted to, didn't you?"_

_"You are going into Starfleet!"_

_"Both of you, stop it now! Tom, please go upstairs. I need to have a talk with your father."_

"My mom took my side, but my dad was firm. And it wasn't like I hated Starfleet. I've always loved the feel of flying. And that brings me to where I am now. Wherever that is."

"That's not the only reason, is it?"

"You're too damned perceptive, you know that?"

"My roommate's a counselor-in-training. She taught me a few tips."

"I - I wanted to make my dad proud of me. He's always seemed so disapproving, you know? I wanted him to say he was proud of me. He's got a junior honors thesis student now, you know."

"I didn't."

"He spends more time with her than with me."

"Maybe you're just busy all the time."

"You'd think he'd make the effort."

Tasha had nothing to say to that, so she just sat in silence.

"On the subject of being perceptive..." Tom said finally.

"Yes?"

"Why did you really tell me all you did? It has to have been more than needing to talk. If that were all it was, you'd have told your roommate, or your mentor. So what was it?"

"Turnabout's fair play, I guess.

"You're damned right it is."

"Okay, then. Three parts, really Part one is the need to talk. I hadn't intended to tell you everything, just to sort of summarize. But once I started talking - frankly, it felt good. And I couldn't stop.

"Part two is that, in a way, I did tell Tuvok - I showed him, via a mind-meld. I think it's possible that sort of helped me come to terms with it a little. And I'm not quite comfortable telling Deanna yet. Too many bad experiences with counselors.

"And part three - well, part three is hard to explain. The best I can put it is to say I trust you. I can't explain why. I didn't like you a bit when we got on the shuttle."

"I wasn't too fond of you either. I thought you were cold and stuck-up."

"I thought you were cocky and arrogant."

"I thought you thought you were too good for everyone else."

"I thought you had no respect for women."

"I thought..." he couldn't come up with anything else, which caused Tasha to burst into giggles.

"You ever read all those old stories?" she asked, sobering up. "Where people fall in love at first sight? The moment they lay eyes on each other, they know they're meant to be together?"

"Tasha, uh, you're not saying-"

"What? Oh, no, no. What I'm saying is, if two people can know they're meant to be lovers in that first moment, can't two people also know that they're meant to be friends, possibly the best friend each has ever had, in the same way?"

Tom gave a small smile. "You sure you're not taking philosophy or something on the side?"

"Not unless there's two of me."

"Ah, something for security to investigate."

She put on an affronted face. "I _am _security, Mr. Paris."

He smiled but grew serious quickly. "Thanks for trusting me. And I think you're right. I think you just might turn out to be the best friend I've ever had. Well, one of the only friends I've ever had."

"Oh, come on. You've always got a million friends around you."

"You wouldn't believe how many of them just hang around me because they want something. I'm the Admiral's son to them. Not Tom Paris, Admiral Paris' son. The only person who's ever not cared is Charlie Day, and that's because we were friends when all we could do was crawl in circles around each other."

"I have exactly one friend my own age. My roommate. And then I have my honorary baby sister, but she's five."

"I hope you don't drive her as crazy as my sisters drove me."

"Me? Why does everyone suspect me? She has three brothers!"

Tom laughed, but it turned into a coughing fit. Tasha quickly moved to hold his shoulders.

"How bad?" he asked. "Tell me the truth, Tasha, how bad is it?"

"You've probably got about two weeks."

"Until what?"

"Until you run out of time to be rescued." She said it flatly, but he could tell how much it upset her.

"Don't worry, Tasha. You may be an expert on survival, but I'm the expert on Starfleet. They'll find us."

**I know the whole "friends at first sight" thing probably seems really cheesy, but I had to come up with some explanation for why she spilled to someone she barely knew. And take it from me, it does happen.**

**I know Tom's story isn't as long as Tasha's, but frankly most of the big events in his life occur after the Academy.  
**

**Please review.**


	15. Chapter Fifteen: The Rescue

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Fifteen: The Rescue**_

"Tasha, you okay?"

"I'm the one who's supposed to be asking that question. How are you feeling?"

"I asked first. You look - less than stellar, if you don't mind my saying so."

"It's been a long couple of days, nothing more. And you?"

"Thirsty."

Tasha retrieved a water packet, tore it open, and took a small sip. It took every bit of willpower in her not to gulp the whole thing down. It had become progressively hotter over the last few days, and she was sweating constantly. But Tom was hurt badly, and he needed it far more than she did. She could survive on a few mouthfuls a day. Of course, she hadn't told him. He never would have let her give him all the water.

"Here. Water."

Tom was too weak to hold the packet steady, so Tasha put it to his lips for him. He gulped it down.

"How're you doing?"

He tried to smile, but it was clear he was in unbearable pain. "Tired."

She managed a tiny smile back. "Don't try to hide things from me. I'm an expert at the art of hiding the truth without lying."

"Okay, the truth is I hurt like hell. But I really am tired. And it hurts a lot trying to sleep on the floor."

"Come here." She gently pulled him to her so he could rest in her lap. "Better?"

"Yeah." His eyes were already slipping shut.

"Sweet dreams."

But long after Tom was asleep, Tasha remained awake and worried. She knew her friend was dying. If he didn't get medical help soon, it would be too late. They'd used up ten days of the two weeks she'd predicted for him.

xxxxxxxxx

Tom realized the irony of the situation as soon as he woke. He'd woken up in the arms of plenty of girls, but Tasha was the first girl whose arms he'd woken up in without sleeping with her the night before. He could understand where her misconception about his level of respect for women came from. But the truth was, he'd only been half of the equation. He'd behaved the way they expected him to. More than once, he'd tried to go out with a girl he really liked, only to find out she was interested in only one thing. Ironic, definitely, that the one woman who seemed to respect him as an actual person was someone he had no romantic interest in at all. He laughed slightly. Instantly, she was alert.

"What is it?"

"Just thinking about something." A spasm of pain crossed his face. "How many days?"

"What?"

"How many days do I have left?"

She sighed. "Three, four, _maybe_ five. Tom, promise me something."

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you'll keep fighting until we're rescued or -" she didn't say the rest, but she didn't have to: _until you can't fight anymore._

"I promise." And he meant it. He knew how much Tasha had lost. He could never justify adding another number to her count.

"Rest."

"Yes, ma'am." But he was smiling a little.

xxxxxxxxx

Bang. Bang.

Tasha jerked awake. Tom stirred sleepily in her arms.

"Hello?" someone called.

"Did you hear something?" Tom weakly lifted his head.

"I'll go check it out." She carefully laid him on the floor. "Who's there?"

"Starfleet. Open the hatch."

Tasha pulled the manual override lever and shoved the hatch open.

"Cadet Yar?"

She nodded, speechless with relief.

"Is Cadet Paris with you?"

She managed to force her voice to work. "He's badly hurt. You have to help him."

"We will," the officer promised. "But you don't look well either. Come out here. We'll take care of Paris."

Tasha crawled through the hatch. "I'm fine. I wasn't hurt."

"You may not have been hurt, but I'll be the final judge of whether or not you're fine." A woman in a blue uniform scanned her with a medical tricorder. "As I thought, you're running a high fever and you're very dehydrated."

"Is that why it feels so hot out here?"

"Probably. Come with me."

Tasha was aware of being led to a stretcher, felt pressure against her neck, heard the hiss of a hypospray, and then everything went dark.

xxxxxxxxx

Tom was vaguely aware of people moving around him and voices speaking, but he couldn't make them out. His eyes slipped closed, and he gave into the welcoming darkness.

He awoke to a brightly-lit room. His first thought was that he was definitely not on the shuttle anymore. He tried to sit up, but it made his head spin.

"Don't try that just yet." A familiar voice, but the last one he'd expected to hear.

"Dad?" He squinted and could just barely make out the Admiral's features. "What happened? Where am I?"

"Academy infirmary. You were badly hurt in the crash."

"I know." Something clicked in his mind and he tried again to sit up, only to have his father gently push him back down. "Tasha. Where is she?"

"Cadet Yar? She's still unconscious. She appears to have picked up some sort of infection on the planet."

"I told her she looked bad," he mumbled. "She didn't listen to me."

"Sleep, Tom. You're not well yourself."

He wanted to stay awake, but his body seemed determined to obey his father.

xxxxxxxxx

"How sick is she?"

"She's being treated for an alien virus, as well as a severe case of dehydration," the doctor explained.

"Dehydration? But we had plenty of water-" Suddenly he realized what had happened, and his eyes widened. "Oh, shit."

"Tom!" Owen Paris was more than a little put out at his son's language.

"Sorry. But it just occurred to me. There are barely enough emergency rations for two people to survive on that shuttle for about ten days, on one water packet per day. We were there for twelve, and I was drinking more than one a day, I just wasn't thinking, and she never left the shuttle after that first day, so she had no chance to get water - oh, God, she must have barely had anything to drink that whole time."

"Tom," Owen put in, "I saw pictures of the shuttle. It was turned upside-down. Now I happen to know that rations in those shuttles are kept in bins on the floor, which in your case would have been the ceiling. Your leg was broken. You weren't retrieving the rations yourself, were you?"

"No. She was."

"Then it was her decision, Tom."

"And it appears to have been a smart one," the doctor added. "Your own condition was critical. If you had run out of water, you most likely would have died before you were rescued."

"All the same - can I sit with her for awhile?"

"I don't see why not."

xxxxxxxxx

The light stabbed at Tasha's eyes, and she instantly closed them again. She heard movement, and then a soft voice.

"Tasha?"

She tried to open her eyes again, but once again the light was too bright. Whoever it was seemed to realize this. "Lights to forty percent."

The lights dimmed and she was able to open them completely. "Tom?"

She saw his silhouette, and then she felt him press something to her lips. "Here. Drink."

It was water, and she gulped greedily. She'd never been so thirsty in her life. She drained every drop in the cup and he brought her another.

"Tom, should you be up? You're hurt."

"Tasha," his voice caught in his throat. "Tasha, you've been out for two days. I've had surgery and time to recover." He touched his cool hand to her burning face. "You're the one who's a mess now."

"I feel it."

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"I didn't realize. I felt hot and tired, but I put that down to the heat and anxiety and our less-than-ideal sleeping space."

"And what about the water? I saw how thirsty you were."

"I saw how thirsty you were," she countered. "On the ship."

"Tasha-"

"I wasn't going to lose you too." He heard the vulnerability in her voice, something he knew most people would never hear from her.

"Okay, fine." He couldn't bring himself to argue the point with her. "But now it's time for you to take care of you. And I intend to see that you do."

**The good news is, this is the fourth chapter this week. The bad news is that this particular bit is done, and my next bit for **_**Big Doors **_**also spans multiple chapters, so you won't be getting another update on this one until I'm done with that one. I hope to have that done and be back to roughly 1-1 updates in less than two weeks, but no promises.**

**Okay, for some reason, this chapter went missing temporarily. It's back.  
**

**Please review.**


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Strange Encounters

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Sixteen: Strange Encounters**_

"Can you believe it?" Tom grumbled irritably.

Tasha just shook her head. "Who would be stupid enough to do something like that? Really."

"Tasha! Tasha!"

Tom looked over his shoulder at the source of the shouting, which unfortunately he still couldn't see. "Friend of yours?"

"My roommate. Deanna! Over here!"

It took a few more shouts, but the two of them finally managed to find each other in the masses.

"Okay," Tasha said once she'd finally managed to find the sought-after Betazoid, "so noon is not the best time to try to find someone in this place. " She indicated the crowded Academy cafeteria.

"Guess not, huh?" Deanna laughed. "You going to introduce me to your shadow?"

"Ah, right. Deanna, Tom Paris. Tom, Deanna Troi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"So, how'd the investigation go?"

"Bunch of engineering lingo that went way over my head," Tasha said, "but basically, someone was working on the shuttle and didn't put it back together right. But it had undergone diagnostics since its last repair. Someone must have been messing with it without authorization. The committee will be doing their best to get to the bottom of who it was, but we've been warned it might take time."

"At least you two are off the hook," Deanna pointed out, and Tom nodded.

"Very true."

"So besides teaching my somewhat flying-deficient roommate how to pilot, she tells me you've got some skills in history."

"More of a hobby than anything, but it's been a useful hobby where class is concerned. Tasha mentioned it's been giving you both a little trouble?"

"To put it mildly," Deanna replied.

"Well, I'm happy to help."

"What are you, the universal tutor?"

"Something like that." He smiled. "In all seriousness, however, Tasha's offered to reciprocate. So, what do you say?"

"Why not?"

xxxxxxxxx

"Bad?" Deanna asked as soon as she saw her roommate.

"How could you tell?"

"You're agitated and angry."

"It was a cadet. In engineering. She decided to get in some practice time in by disassembling a shuttle without permission, and then when she couldn't remember how to put something back together, she didn't want to ask for help because she wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, so she made her best guess. "

"What happened to her?"

"She's been expelled, and they made it clear to her that if someone had been killed as a result of her actions she could have been facing criminal charges. I think that one was meant as a warning to anyone who might be stupid enough to try it after this mess."

"Good."

xxxxxxxxx

"How'd you do?" Deanna asked eagerly.

"Fifteen points up from last time," she answered excitedly.

"I'm up nine," Deanna squealed. "Never done this well in my life."

"Pleased?"

Tasha turned to the sandy-haired boy behind her and threw her arms around him. "You bet!"

"What do you say we grab some celebratory lunch?"

"You're on!" Both girls responded at once.

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to talk to me?" Tasha had never seen Tom so hesitant about anything.

"Yeah, it's about the Sadie Hawkins."

"Don't remind me. I'm tempted to just disappear that day."

"Yeah, well," he fidgeted uncomfortably, "I sort of need your help."

"What with?"

"Iwanttoaskdeanna."

"What?"

"I want to ask Deanna," he said finally, but so quietly Tasha had to lean forward to hear him.

"Okay. What do you need my help for?"

"Do you know if she has a date already?"

"She doesn't. Tom, if you want to ask her, _ask her_. Just go up to her and ask."

"What if she says no?"

Tasha laughed. "Now, I admit my experience with the subject matter is limited, but honestly, Tom, from what I can tell, you're acting like a teenage girl."

He laughed too. "If my sisters are anything to go by, I am. But I really like Deanna, and there aren't a lot of girls around here like her. She's the only girl I know who doesn't think of me as 'the Admiral's son' besides you, and you're more like my sister than anything else."

"Tom, if you don't ask her, she'll never say no. But she'll never say yes either."

He got a small smile on his face. "Okay, then. You win. I'll ask her."

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha! Tasha, guess what?"

"Huh?" Tasha opened her eyes blearily to the sight of her very excited roommate. "What time is it?"

"Oh, sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all, and she rushed ahead to blurt out her news. "Tom just asked me to the dance!"

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you say?"

"What do you think I said? I said yes!" She grinned. "Now all we have to do is find you a date."

"Let's not."

"Oh, come on, Tasha. It's a dance, not a life commitment."

"What will it take for you to quit bugging me?"

"Let me find you a date!"

"Oh, fine then."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was wishing she hadn't let Deanna find her a date.

Her long, green dress swirled around her legs. The date had ended in disaster. Not that it had started all that well. The date Deanna had found for her had seemed more interested in how she looked than anything. He'd even dodged the question when she'd asked him to refresh her on his name. And then, an hour in, he'd started putting the moves on her. When she refused, he'd come closer, trying to kiss her. And while Benjamin Sisko had helped her no longer be afraid of a kiss, she knew that with this boy, it wouldn't end there. That was when she'd slapped him.

That had instantly drawn the eyes of half the room, and much of the unwanted attention was directed at Tasha. In the face of the not-so-secret comments she'd heard about her, she'd fled. That was how she'd ended up out on the grounds.

She heard footsteps but ignored them. It was either Boothby, who would realize she wanted to be left alone, or her friends, who would hopefully realize the same as Boothby, or other students, who she absolutely didn't want to talk to.

"You appear to be in some distress. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Apparently, it was none of those. She turned and came face-to-face with the strangest-looking man she'd ever seen.

He wasn't alien, at least he didn't look it. His features were unmistakably human. But even in the dim light she could see that his skin was ivory and his eyes were yellow.

"I didn't realize there was anyone else around here at this hour."

"I presume from your presence that you are a member of Starfleet, most likely an academy cadet. And yet your attire is not typical of that condition."

"No, I guess it's not. What about you? You can't be a cadet, I'd have noticed you around here."

"You are correct. I am, in fact, a lieutenant."

"If you don't mind my asking, sir, why are you on the Academy campus?"

"I do not believe that, under the circumstances, formalities are necessary. As for your question, I, like you, did not expect to encounter others on campus at this time of night. I find this a convenient place to be when I do not wish to be disturbed by my colleagues on my off-duty hours."

"I'm sorry to have interfered, sir."

"You have not interfered. And I already expressed the fact that formalities are not necessary. You need not call me sir."

"Then what should I call you?"

"My name is Data."

"_Data_?"

"I am aware that the name is unusual."

"What kind of parents name their son _Data_?"

"I do not have parents. I am an android."

Her eyebrows raised. "And you're a lieutenant?"

"I assure you, my rank is not honorary."

"I never said it was. I just didn't know Starfleet had androids in the service."

"They do not."

"But you said-"

"You used the plural form of the word: androids. Therefore, your statement is incorrect. I am the only android in Starfleet."

"Are you always so precise?"

"Does that displease you?"

"No. It's just unusual."

"There is another element of this conversation which is unusual. You have not introduced yourself."

"I'm Tasha. Tasha Yar."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You can ask, you know."

"Ask what?"

"What I'm doing out here, dressed like this, at this hour."

"That question had not crossed my mind. However if you wish to tell me, you may do so."

She smiled despite herself. "I caused a bit of a fiasco at the Sadie Hawkins dance."

"What did you do?"

"I hit my date."

"Is that a new form of mating behavior?"

Tasha surprised herself when she laughed. "No. He got too close for comfort. But it's going to be the talk of the Academy gossip chain for weeks at least."

"Ah."

"And so now I'm out here. I couldn't stand to hear what they were saying."

"To what are you referring?"

"The other cadets. They were saying things about me, that I was frigid and cold, that I'm an abuser, that I'll go out with any man as long as he lets me beat him up, stuff like that."

"Is it true?"

"Of course not!"

"Forgive me. I am often uncertain of what is an appropriate question."

"Apology accepted. But no, it's just the way people think. It's never the man's fault, for getting too close or not leaving me alone or whatever. Either I'm an ice queen because I have boundaries or I'm an abuser for enforcing them."

"I believe that method of thinking is several centuries out of date."

"Maybe, but that doesn't stop them."

"What of your friends?"

"I only have two friends, and neither of them was in the room, at least I don't think they were."

"I would like to change that fact."

"You can't change what's already happened. You must know that."

"I refer to the other fact. I would like to add one to your number of total friends."

Tasha grinned. "I'd like that."

"It is quite late. You should return to the complex. Your friends will be looking for you."

"Yeah, I probably should. Will I see you again?"

"I would like that." He echoed her earlier statement. "The next time I am on campus, I will make an effort to seek you out."

Tasha smiled. "I'll see you then."

He turned and walked one way, and she walked the other. She ran into Tom and Deanna almost as soon as she entered the hall.

"There you are!" Tom looked enormously relieved. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Sorry. I just needed some time to think."

"Deanna weaseled the whole story out of your date," he explained. "I just wanted to say that I know why you hit him, and he deserved it."

"And I'm sorry I set up this mess," Deanna added. "I had no idea he'd be that much of a jerk. But you don't seem that upset. What happened after you left?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Come on, spill it."

Tasha finally laughed. "Oh, okay, fine. Well, I was out on the grounds..."

**I said less than two weeks. Four days seems to fit under that umbrella.**

**Before anyone asks, I have **_**no**_** idea where the Data plot is going. It came to me on the spur of the moment.**

**Please Review.**


	17. Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge**_

"So, this wilderness survival thing..." Deanna began.

"They drop a group of cadets off in the middle of the desert," Tom explained, "and then the group has to try to make their way back to base. Everything's carefully monitored, and if the group makes a serious mistake, one member of the group is beamed out. A big chunk of the grading is on how much of the group makes it back. It's designed so that survival is possible, everything's there, but it's a challenge of teamwork and strategy. Almost no one ever makes it back to camp with a full group."

"Who else is in our group?" Tasha asked.

"It doesn't say. We'll find out the day of."

xxxxxxxxx

Seven cadets materialized at their designated site: Tasha, Deanna, Tom, Tom's friend Charlie Day, a half-human half-Bajoran cadet named Leone Marianna, and two other humans, Victor Carson and Chris Matthews. At first, they just stared at each other. Then Carson spoke up.

"Okay, first things first. We need a leader, and it's not going to be me. I'll get us all killed, guaranteed." He got an easy smile on his face. "Who here's any good at Survival?"

"Tasha," Tom said immediately.

"Who?" Day asked. He glanced from Deanna to the Bajoran cadet, and Tasha realized none of them knew her by name.

"Me."

Matthews laughed sharply. "You?" He started laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world, and Carson and Day joined in. Even Marianna chuckled lightly.

"Good joke, Tom," Day said through his laughter, "but we've got to take this seriously."

"Who's joking?" Tom said calmly. "She's the best in our class, no question."

The laughter died down almost instantly. Matthews was the first to speak. "_Her_?"

"Yes," Deanna answered, "her. I'll let you know she's the only reason I passed the class last year. And I don't see you volunteering."

That shut everyone else up. They might not have been wild about Tasha, but none of them was ready to assume the responsibility for themselves.

"Okay, I'm leader," Tasha said firmly. "The first thing we have to do is get out of the open. Right now, we're sitting ducks for anyone who'd try to attack."

"Because we're in so much danger out in the middle middle of nowhere-land Earth," Carson said, shaking his head. "Come on, seriously?"

"It's a simulation," Tasha replied, unfazed. "If we ended up in some unknown place, we'd have no way of knowing if there were enemies around. That could be the exact kind of trap the teachers would try to catch us in."

"She's right," Tom said immediately. "Look, I'm sort of familiar with our instructor," this garnered smiles from the group, "and it's exactly the kind of thing he'd try. Come on, let's go."

It took only a few minutes for Tasha to find something that the others had missed: an opening in a rock-face. It wasn't very big, only about a foot across, but when she looked inside, she realized there was a space inside the size of a room. It would be an ideal hiding place.

"Hey - hey! Come take a look at this!"

The six others gathered around her, all trying to look in at once. "It's perfect," Tom said almost at once. "We just need to open it up a little more."

It was hard work, but they managed to widen the opening enough to squeeze in. The seven of them dropped to the floor.

"Okay, now," Tasha said, more quietly than usual because of the echo inside the cave, "I'm not going to start just delegating tasks arbitrarily. I will delegate, of course, but I first want to ask if anyone here's particularly good at something that might help us."

Marianna was the first to speak. "I can find food and water. I learned a lot about edible plant life and likely water sources in the camps."

Tasha shot Tom a look, hoping he'd explain what she meant about camps. He mouthed _later_, and she nodded. "Okay, great."

"Charlie's got a really good sense of direction," Tom added, knowing his friend might be too much in a funk to mention it. "He'd make a good navigator."

"We'll have to navigate almost entirely at night," she told Day. "Can you do it?"

"Yeah, I think so," he mumbled.

"Good. Anyone else?"

"Well, uh," Tom said softly, "you're sort of in command here, right?"

"That's right."

"Then it's my personal opinion that, as the commander of the unit, you need an executive officer. I volunteer myself."

Tasha knew what Tom was really saying: he knew she might need backup to deal with a group that had only grudgingly accepted her as leader. "Offer accepted. Any other special talents I should know about?" No one answered. "Okay, then. Matthews, Carson, you'll be in charge of finding shelter. Deanna, I want you to scout ahead and make sure we're not running up against unexpected hazards." Deanna's intuition had, in the past, proved useful for dealing with situations as well as people. "We move at twilight, as soon as it's too dark to easily make out figures. Until then, we'll keep watches, one hour each. I'll take the first watch, then Carson, Day, Marianna -"

"Leone."

"I'm sorry?" she didn't quite get what the woman was trying to tell her.

"Bajoran custom - the custom to which I adhere - has the family name first, the individual name second. Since you're referring to everyone else by family name, I assume that you meant to do the same for me, therefore you would refer to me as Leone, not Marianna."

"Leone, sorry. Then Matthews, Paris, and Troi, and we'll stay on that cycle." She intentionally set them up alphabetically so that no one could accuse her of favoritism (fortunately, Leone was at the same place in the order regardless of the mix-up), and took the first watch so no one would have to take more watches than she did. "That's everything."

Tasha planted herself nearest to the door, and the others tried to find comfortable ways to sleep. Tom and Deanna managed it best, ending up somewhat wrapped around each other. Tasha might have teased them if she hadn't been in charge of the unit and if it hadn't been for the fact that a few short months ago, she'd been the one sleeping with Tom in her arms. Leone Marianna didn't seem to care much, curling up in a corner and dropping off quickly. Tasha made a mental note to ask Tom about the camps she'd mentioned, thinking it might be relevant. The other three took longer, but the cave was silent soon enough. Tasha sat there for an hour, then woke Carson and laid down to catch a few hours' sleep.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha awoke to the feel of someone shaking her. She quickly realized it was Leone.

"It's twilight," she said shortly.

Tasha stood. "Help me wake the others. Wake Day first, I need him to get our position."

Within a few minutes, all seven were up and Day had their position. "That way."

"I don't need us to stay shoulder-to-shoulder," Tasha said, "especially since that would make it harder to accomplish our tasks. But everyone needs to stay within shouting range. I want to be able to regroup in a matter of minutes if necessary. Oh, and everyone turn your jackets inside out. We'll be harder to spot if we stick to dark colors. Let's go."

"You heard her! Move!" Tom snapped them into action and everyone spread out, reversing their jackets as ordered.. Tasha moved in close to Tom so they could talk without being overheard.

"Those camps Leone was talking about. You said you'd tell me later. This is later."

"You know, for all the emphasis they put on Earth and Federation history, they're really bad at the Academy about teaching about other history. You know, of course, that the Federation is sort of at war with Cardassia?"

Tasha nodded. She was aware that the war was at a deadlock at the moment, but also that there was no official truce.

"Well, in 2319, about thirty-five years ago, Cardassia took over Bajor. Their traditions were destroyed and their religious practices forbidden, and many people were taken as slaves. Those that weren't were forced into refugee camps."

"Including Leone."

"Including Leone. I wasn't sure until she said it, although I suspected."

Tasha nodded. "Hey, keep an eye on things for me for a minute, would you? Day!" she yelled.

He appeared quickly enough, getting close enough that they could talk without shouting. "Yeah?"

"Can you tell time by the position of the stars?"

"Pretty close."

"Let me know when we're half an hour from sunup."

"Right." He intercepted Tom, speaking to him in an undertone. "You like her or something, don't you?"

"Who, Deanna? Of course I like her, she's my girlfriend."

"No." He jerked his head towards Tasha. "_Her_."

"What are you talking about?"

"You recommended her for the leader position, you offered to be basically her first officer, and now you're having quiet, private conversations."

"I recommended you for a position too, as you'll recall. And in terms of private conversations - what do you call this? She's my friend, Charlie. That's all."

"You're friends with her?" Charlie laughed. "Tom, you could do way better than her."

"Could I? Charlie, you and I have been friends since we were babies, so of course I know I can rely on you, but how many of my other so-called friends just hang around me because I'm the Admiral's son? Pretty much everyone except Tasha and Deanna is that way."

"How long before she starts slapping you around too? She's a frigid bitch, Tom. Everyone knows that except you."

In a moment, Tom had his friend by the jacket. "Don't ever let me hear you say that again!"

"Calm down, man. What's gotten into you?" Charlie was actually a little frightened by Tom's behavior.

"We may be friends, but I won't stand for anyone talking about her that way. You don't know anything about her except what the rumor mill's churned out." He released Charlie's shirt. "She hit one guy because he was being a jerk. That's all."

Charlie walked away, shaking his head. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

xxxxxxxxx

It wasn't until the third day that the tension really came to a head. Tasha had spent the last two days essentially wrestling with the group, with Tom's help keeping a tenuous control. This particular time, she'd caught Matthews and Carson messing around trying to set up the shelter, knocking over the thing they were improvising and almost breaking it.

"What is going on here?" she demanded. "Number one, this could have easily been broken beyond repair. Number two, anyone within ten meters at least will have heard this racket."

"Cut it out, already. Stop being such a stuck-up whore."

Tasha forced herself to shunt aside the insult in favor of the actual issue at hand. "You think this is all a big joke, don't you? You don't understand what this is about or why it's important."

"And all you care about is the chance to be in charge, and your grade. Lighten up! What are the chances we'll ever have to use this stuff?"

By this point, the other four group members had surrounded them. Tom opened his mouth to step in, but Tasha shot him a look, silently telling him to let her fight this battle.

"You don't know anything." Her icy calm was more frightening than anything she might have yelled. "You spend ten years trying to survive on your own, without any help from anyone, and you'll understand why it's important. You'll understand that knowing how to keep yourself hidden and find food can literally mean the difference between life and death. Now, fix this up, and this time, do it without making a holy racket." She turned and walked away before they could get over their shock enough to respond. But she hadn't been standing alone for two minutes before someone approached her. The weight of the footsteps initially suggested that it was Deanna. But when Tasha turned, she realized it was Leone.

"Can I help you?"

"Do you have a minute? It'll take the guys at least fifteen to sort out that mess."

"Yeah, sure. What do you need?"

"Just to talk, if that's okay."

"Sure."

"I heard what you said to Matthews and Carson. You should've seen Day's face. He looked completely floored." She smiled a little before getting back on topic. "You know what it's like, don't you?"

"What what's like?"

"Spending every day fighting for your life. I didn't realize. I figured you were spoiled by technology, like pretty much every human out there. Nothing personal, I thought that about everyone. And then you slapped that guy and I was sure you were just being picky or oversensitive or whatever. Now I realize you probably understand me better than anyone."

"Understand you?"

"I'm half-Bajoran, as I'm sure you know, but I have no connection with my human history that isn't in my DNA. My mother - my human mother - gave me up as soon as I was born, told my father to take me or she'd leave me in an orphanage. I was raised by my father on the Bajoran camp on Valo II. The Cardassians did everything in their power to keep us down. We had to work together to survive. There was never enough food, so we learned to scavenge. There weren't actual houses, so we learned to find shelter. We learned to hide when the Cardassians came to prey on us. And you - you've lived the same way, haven't you?"

"Yes. Except there was no cooperation between people. From the time I was five until the time I was fifteen, I was completely alone."

"That's awful. I don't know what I would've done without my father and my friends."

"Hey." Tom Paris had come up behind them unnoticed. "Despite evidence suggesting the impossibility of this, Matthews and Carson finally created something resembling a structure." He shared an easy grin with Tasha. "Now, if we're going to follow your guidelines, you should get in before it gets any lighter."

"What's the situation?"

"Matthews and Carson are still pissed, but they're not going to say anything if they know what's good for them. I think you finally got through their thick skulls. Charlie's just shell-shocked for the moment. I don't think he was quite expecting the tongue-lashing, and he knows it was aimed at him too."

"He's right."

"Oh, definitely. I like Charlie, but that was a long time coming. You coming?"

"In a minute." This seemed to pacify Tom, who turned and headed back for the shelter.

"Leone, we'd better -"

"Call me Mari."

"What?"

"We're more that cordial acquaintances now, aren't we? Call me Mari."

"On one condition."

"Yeah?"

"Call me Tasha."

Marianna smiled. "Agreed."

xxxxxxxxx

It was a very excited Deanna Troi who came sprinting back to the group. "Tasha! Tasha!"

"What is it?"

"Come look!"

She turned and ran back the way she'd come, and the other six scrambled after her. They got to the top of a hill and saw what Deanna had been so excited about.

"The base camp!" Even by the moonlight, the structure was clearly visible.

"How far do you make that?" Tasha asked Charlie.

"More than two kilometers, less than three." He was grinning. "We've still got hours before daylight."

"Well?" Tasha turned to the group. "What are we waiting for?"

Almost as one, the seven of them picked up a light run. It was less than half an hour before they found themselves standing at the base camp. Admiral Paris met them at the door.

"Well, you're the last group back," he informed them, "but you're also the only group to return complete." His stern expression gave way to a rare smile. "Well done, all of you. Very well done."

Tasha looked around, seeing the smiles on the faces of all of her classmates. But no one was smiling bigger than Tom, who actually looked like he might cry.

"Cadet Yar, Cadet Paris, I'd like to speak to the two of you for a moment. The rest of you may go inside."

The other five hurried past. Tasha was the first to speak. "What's this about, sir?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you. I make it a point to talk to every group leader, go over the mission. Your work was admirable, no question. But you did make one mistake. Do you know what it was?"

Tasha quickly thought through the mission. "No, sir. I don't."

"Cadet, you are aware of your unique abilities in this subject?"

"Of course, sir."

"You are also aware that it is extremely unlikely that anyone in your entire class, let alone your group, has skills on par with yours?"

"I am, sir."

"And yet you didn't volunteer yourself as leader."

"I didn't want to seem too forthright."

"You need to learn to take more initiative. You were the clear choice for leader, but you won't always have someone else there to recognize it for you. You have to take those steps."

"Yes, sir."

"Tom, your own role in this was equally admirable. You saw where you were needed and stepped in to fill those shoes."

"Thank you, sir." There was no mistaking it, Tom's voice was definitely choked up.

"Now both of you get inside and start celebrating with your group-mates. That's an order."

"Aye, sir!"

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was aware of all the jealous stares she was getting from other group leaders. It was somewhat exhilarating, in a way. Before this adventure, they had been indifferent, even looked down on her. She was getting awed looks from Deanna and Marianna, and even Day, Matthews, and Carson were looking at her with grudging respect.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Tom asked. "Let's go celebrate!"

Tasha dropped back to talk to Tom. "Hey. You okay?"

"I'm fine." He still sounded on the verge of tears.

"Come on. What is it?"

Tom smiled broadly. "That's probably the closest my dad's ever come to saying he's proud of me."

She squeezed his arm. "You deserved every word."

"Hey!" That was Deanna, who had realized they were lagging. "Come on!"

Still beaming, Tom moved to take Deanna's hand.

xxxxxxxxx

"Hello."

Tasha whirled, surprised. "Don't do that!"

"I apologize." Yellow eyes blinked at her.

She smiled. "Apology accepted. It's nice to see you again."

"You appear to be in high spirits."

"Wilderness Survival."

"Intriguing. I have observed that those excursions rarely leave anyone in high spirits."

"It does when the whole group makes it back in one piece."

"That is quite unusual. And yet, I believe you are saying you were able to do so?"

"Yeah, eventually. What about you? I would think someone of your skill would manage it easily."

"My group leader did not value my expertise. He believed I was, as he said, 'too rigid' and that I did not understand the human element."

"Tell me about it!"

"I just told you. Do you need me to repeat what I said?"

"What? Oh, no, it's an expression. It means I know exactly how you feel. Fortunately, I had someone in my group willing to stick up for my expertise."

"Fortunate indeed." He studied her. "You appear fatigued."

"That obvious, huh?"

"I will not keep you from your rest."

"Data!"

He had been leaving, but he stopped. "Yes?"

"One week from today. Same time, same place."

"I will be here."

**At least one reviewer wanted to see Tasha and Deanna working together in survival. Hope this qualifies!**

**There was a really random mistake in the middle - Tasha said that their survival skills could mean the difference between "right and wrong" instead of "life and death". That's how you know I was writing at midnight again. It's been fixed.  
**

**Please review.**


	18. Chapter Eighteen: A Memorable Holiday

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Eighteen: A Memorable Holiday  
**_

"Hey, Tasha! Tasha!"

She turned. "Yeah?"

Tom ran up to her, breathless. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I've been where I always am. Not my fault you can't seem to find me."

"Well, I found you."

"Indeed you did. What's up?"

"I almost forgot. Every year for Christmas my dad throws a party up at our winter lodge. You want to come?"

"Me?"

"No, the person standing behind you. Of course you."

"Where and when?"

"Well, you'd probably be coming up on the 23rd, and you're welcome to stay through New Year's, everyone does. We can meet at the transport station and beam over from there. You and Deanna would probably end up sharing a room with my sister, though, and maybe someone else, it gets kinda cramped up there and Dad's strict about girls and boys in separate rooms."

"He seems like the type. Honestly I'm more comfortable with that anyway - except for you and maybe Lieutenant Data, I'm still not totally comfortable around men, especially when I'm asleep."

Tom nodded understandingly. "Moira's only a year older than Deanna - my oldest sister is engaged, so she gets to share a room with her fiance. I think you'll like her. So, you in?"

"I'm in."

xxxxxxxxx

"Oh my God this place is amazing!"

"You might want to yell a little louder," Tasha told her roommate wryly, rubbing her ear. "There might be a few people in the Delta Quadrant who didn't quite hear you."

"Sorry. But look! Isn't it amazing? It looks like something out of a storybook."

She was right enough - the huge, majestic house on the snow-covered land did look like a fantasy. It did not, however, feel like one.

"Storybooks aren't this cold," Tasha replied, shivering. "At least I doubt it."

"I'll replicate you a warmer coat inside," Tom said, laughing. "It didn't occur to me that you wouldn't be used to the cold." He glanced down at her feet. "That wasn't what I meant when I said to wear boots either."

"They're boots!"

"Yeah, Starfleet boots. Not exactly ideal footwear for this environment. Come on, let's get in before you completely freeze." He led them to the door. "My dad's not coming until tomorrow, but my mom's here and probably someone else, I don't know who's coming when."

The three of them stumbled into the spacious entryway. "Just leave your stuff here, we'll move it later. Mom! _Mom_!"

A woman bustled into the room. "There you are! And these must be your friends."

"This is Deanna Troi, and Tasha Yar."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Paris," Deanna said formally.

"Oh, please, girls. Call me Julia." She looked them over, turning her gaze on Tasha. "You look frozen, dear. Don't you have anything warmer than that?"

"I don't," she answered quietly.

"I told her to bring boots and a coat. I didn't exactly think to tell her how cold it gets up here."

"Well, come in and have some hot chocolate, and we'll replicate something warmer."

"Chocolate?" Deanna perked up at the word, and Tom and Tasha burst out laughing.

"The chocolate queen has spoken," Tom teased, slipping his arm around Deanna's shoulders. "I, for one, second the motion. Come on, Tasha, you'll love my mother's hot chocolate."

"The vote is unanimous."

"So who else is here?"

"Kathleen and Bryan have been here for hours and Moira got in a few minutes ago; she's in the sitting room now. Why don't you three join her? I'll bring the chocolate in to you."

The sitting room was empty except for a young, blonde woman fast asleep on one of the couches. Tom immediately got a mischievous look on his face. He sneaked up behind her and silently shoved her off the couch.

She landed with a thump on the floor, her eyes blinking open. "What...?" Then she took into account her position, lying on the floor with her brother standing over her. "Tom Paris, I am going to _kill_ you!"

"It's nice to see you too" he laughed. She jumped to her feet, only to be pulled into a hug by Tom.

"Okay, I'll forgive you this time. But only because I've missed you."

"Tasha, Deanna, my sister Moira."

"Hi." Moira plopped herself back down on the couch. "Excuse the threats, but my brother and I have an ongoing war. If either of you have siblings, you'll understand."

Deanna laughed and shook her head, but Tasha looked a bit uncomfortable, and Tom realized that no one understood the concept of a sibling war better than Tasha, and there was nothing funny about it.

"We haven't killed each other yet," he teased, keeping his voice light and trying to take the pressure off Tasha. "At least it's one-on-one now that Kathleen's preparing to be an old married lady."

"It was a three-way war as often as a two-on-one and you know it!"

"Totally not true."

"All right, you two, call it a truce as long as there are guests around." Julia entered the room with a tray of hot chocolate. "You girls warm up now."

Deanna took a sip and a look of pure bliss spread across her face. "This is amazing."

Tasha had to agree.

"Owen's brother and my siblings will be here shortly with their families," Julia added. "I'd recommend you three get settled in your room before the place gets overrun. You three can take the Blue Room, and Tom, you'll be in the little room at the end of the hall. You'll share with Alex, okay?"

"Okay, mom."

"I'll show you the room." Moira finished off her chocolate, and Tasha and Deanna were close behind. Gathering their bags from the front hall, they followed Moira up.

"There are these two beds, and one has a trundle underneath," Moira explained. "I should warn you, there are going to be a lot of little kids around. My dad has a younger brother, and my mom's the oldest of four, and all the siblings are married and have kids. The oldest - my cousin Alex - is seventeen, and they go from there down to my aunt Kayla's eighteen-month-old daughter. You don't mind kids, do you?"

"Not at all," Tasha said enthusiastically, and Deanna shook her head."I'll take the trundle if that's all right." Years of sleeping with no bed at all made her sleep most comfortably close to the ground.

"That's fine," Deanna answered. "Then I'll take the bed over the trundle, and Moira can take the other one."

"How much stuff do you two have?" Moira asked.

"Just Deanna's suitcase. We crammed all my stuff in there. And whatever gear Tom replicates for me."

"Not from a cold climate, huh?"

"No."

"Knock knock." Tom stuck his head through the door. "Tasha, Mom needs to know what your size is."

"You could try actually knocking, you know," Moira pointed out.

"What's the fun in that?"

"I'll come downstairs," Tasha said. "You can have your replicator scan me or whatever."

xxxxxxxxx

"I have snow in my nose, up my boots, and inside my shirt," Tasha informed Tom. "I thought the winter gear was supposed to keep the snow out!"

"It is. Just not when _you _crash us into a snowbank!" He shook his head, sending a cloud of snow down all over her and their overturned sled.

That morning, Tom had decided to teach his friends how much fun sledding could be. Moira had agreed to go with them so that they could use the large two-person sleds. The first few runs - with the siblings steering - had been fine, but then Tom had decided to let Tasha steer. The result had been the most hair-raising ride of his life, ending with a rollover crash into a snowbank.

"You guys okay?" Moira and Deanna came up to them, panting hard, obviously having scrambled up the hill as fast as they could.

"Yeah, fine." Tom started brushing off the sled, and Tasha didn't miss the glint in his eye. Suddenly, he whipped around and fired a snowball at his sister.

"Why you..." She bent down, made a snowball of her own, and lobbed it at her brother.

It quickly became a full-blown fight, with Tasha and Deanna joining in, refusing to be left out. It became one big free-for-all, with each of them throwing at the other three, and when twenty-five-year-old Kathleen Paris came out to deliver a message, they pelted her too until she gave in and joined them.

Deanna jumped a mile when she felt a grab on her arm. "Tasha! Don't do that!"

"Look." Tasha indicated Tom, who was in the process of forming a huge snowball to lob at his sisters. "What do you say we catch him in his own net?"

"What - oh!" Deanna's eyes went wide. "Tasha, I like the way you think."

As Tom raised the huge snowball over his head, Tasha and Deanna fired off two small snowballs at his back. He jumped, startled, and the gigantic mass of snow crashed down on his head.

It was then they noticed Julia Paris standing nearby with the camera.

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha!"

"Hmm?" Tasha rolled over sleepily, trying to figure out why someone was waking her up when it was still dark.

"Tasha, come on, get up!"

Moira, Tasha realized. "What's going on?"

"Come on, Tasha! It's Christmas."

"And?" She glanced over at the clock. "It's 0600."

"Oh, come on! You never woke up early on Christmas morning?"

"Not that I recall, no." That was true. "We weren't as into Christmas as you seem to be." As far as she could remember, that was true too.

"Well, come on anyway!"

Tasha slipped her robe on over her sleepwear and followed Moira and the equally sleepy Deanna down the stairs. They could hear the living room before they saw it - the large number of small, excitable children in the house all seemed to have congregated there.

Julia entered just after Tasha did, followed closely by her husband, who looked over the room of energetic children and sleepy-eyed parents. "Well, what is everyone waiting for?"

Apparently, that was what they had been waiting for - on his words, all the children dove for a stack of wrapped gifts under the tree. Tasha was surprised they managed to sort out the different gifts considering how much of a pileup they'd become.

A package landed in her lap, and she looked down to see Monica, Tom's five-year-old cousin, looking up at her. Tom had teased her about Monica's apparent hero-worship of her, calling her a child magnet. There were worse things to be.

"You want me to help you open this?"

Monica shook her head, staring up at Tasha with shining eyes. "This one's for you."

"Monica, thank you for trying to be nice, but I'm sure this one's for someone else."

Monica looked highly affronted. "I can read." She pointed to the label. It did indeed bear Tasha's name.

"You didn't expect to be the only one without a gift?"

Tasha looked over her shoulder to see Julia standing there. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Go on, open it. I think there's another one in there somewhere, too."

The package contained a soft, pale blue sweater, which sparkled in the light. Julia was smiling broadly. "It was a lucky coincidence that you showed up without a proper coat, otherwise I would have had a harder time getting the sizing right."

"It's beautiful."

"Oh, you're just saying that."

"No, I mean it. Thank you."

By now, Tasha could see that quite a few sweaters had emerged from packages. The only other people who seemed excited about them were the young children. She realized why Julia had thought she was just being nice.

Her other package was large, square, and heavy and turned out to contain books - actual, paper books with stiff covers. "Tom mentioned you enjoy reading," Julia said, "so I compiled a few favorites. And there's nothing like reading a real book. Not even a data PADD."

Tasha went through the package. "_20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_."

"That was Tom's favorite when he was little. He couldn't get enough of it."

"_My Sister's Keeper_."

"That one was Moira's favorite. I don't recommend you read it unless and until you're prepared to bawl like a baby, though."

"Noted. _From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler._"

"Kathleen's favorite. I think she sympathized with the main character. Oldest child syndrome. I had it too."

"_The Hobbit _and _The Lord of the Rings._" Tasha handled a massive volume. "Two books in one?"

"Four, actually. _The Lord of the Rings_ is three books in one. That's Owen's personal favorite."

"_Black Beauty._"

"Ah, now that one was my favorite. Still is, actually. It's ageless."

Tasha gathered the books into a pile. "Thank you very much. This is amazing."

Julia clearly thought the girl was still being polite, but she didn't call her on it. "Take those upstairs before one of the kids gets their hands on them. Then get dressed and come back down, breakfast is in twenty minutes.

Tasha ran the books upstairs and then hurried into and out of the sonic shower. She slipped on a pair of charcoal pants and the blue sweater. It fit her perfectly.

She certainly wasn't alone in wearing hers. About half the people in the room were wearing theirs, though Tasha suspected some of it was just to please Julia. Deanna was wearing hers, a dark red with the same shimmer effect as Tasha's. Tasha wasn't sure if Tom appreciated his own, but the look on his face suggested he appreciated Deanna's.

Julia had laid the breakfast dishes out on the counter - with that many people around, every meal was buffet-style. Many of the dishes were home-cooked - Julia Paris had struck a balance between handmade and replicated food.

Even from her very earliest memories, Tasha didn't recall Christmas ever being that big of an affair in her family. The Paris family obviously had different ideas. The whole day was one big party.

It was at some point during this party that Julia pulled Tasha aside. "I hope you're enjoying the day."

"Very much, thank you."

"I just wanted to check. You must miss your family, not getting to celebrate with them and all."

"My, uh, my family isn't really into celebrating." That was certainly true enough - the closest thing she had to a family didn't understand the purpose of celebration.

"What are they, a family of Vulcans?"

Tasha burst out laughing at the irony. "Well, now that you mention it..."

"But seriously."

"Seriously. I live with a foster family."

"A human child in a Vulcan family? Forgive me, but that doesn't sound like the brightest idea I've ever heard."

"It's worked for me. And for them. My - my foster father," she'd never called him that before, "is an instructor at the Academy, so he's not entirely unfamiliar with humans. He helped me get into the Academy."

"But still, living in a house without love -"

"I'm not so sure it is one."

"Tasha, dear, I may not be in Starfleet, but I'm certainly not ignorant of the practices of other cultures."

"I never said otherwise. I suppose it depends on what you define as love. My foster family has never said they loved me, and we don't show affection the same way you do with your children, but the way they behave towards me says they love me in the only way they can. A few months after they took me in, I got sick. My foster parents stayed in my room for days taking care of me."

Julia's expression remained skeptical. "I don't think-"

"Look, before I went to live with them I lived in a center. That was what I would truly call a home without love, a place where I was just one of a group and no one really cared about me personally. Not the home I live in now."

Understanding and sympathy flooded the woman's face. "Oh, you poor child." She gave Tasha a gentle hug. "It must feel good to have any kind of family after something like that. I know those centers try their best, but it just isn't the same."

Tasha doubted whether the center could be defined as trying their best, but she didn't say so.

"When was the last time you actually celebrated Christmas?"

"I don't recall."

"Then you'd better make the best of this one. Go on, I won't keep you any longer."

xxxxxxxxx

"What is that thing?" Tasha looked at the huge globe on the viewscreen.

"New Year's tradition," Tom explained. "Centuries old. At 11:59, they release the globe in New York City. It takes exactly one minute to descend, and when it gets to the bottom, it's officially the new year. The original was destroyed in World War Three, but after Cochrane's flight and the founding of the Federation, they created a replica. We get the best timing, too; we get to watch it live since we're in the same time zone."

It was five minutes to midnight, and with the exception of the three children under the age of four, who were sleeping in one of the small bedrooms, every occupant of the house was crowded into the large, high-ceilinged living room. Several bottles of champagne - how the Admiral had gotten his hands on real champagne was a mystery - had been passed around to some of the adults in the crowd. Tasha noticed everyone was giving them a wide berth, and asked Tom about it.

"Champagne is extremely carbonated. You can never predict what's going to happen when you open it. Sometimes it sprays all over everything, and corks have been known to shoot out like bullets. It's better to just be out of the way."

"It's moving! _It's moving_!" Monica shrieked. The ball had indeed started to move, and a clock on the screen was flashing a countdown. When it reached ten, everyone in the room started to count down with it.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year!"

Corks popped out of champagne bottles. Couples kissed, and Tasha definitely saw her roommate and her best friend among them. Champagne was poured into glasses, and Admiral Paris raised his.

"To 2358!"

"2358!" The air was filled with the clinking of glasses.

**Every book in Tasha's collection is a personal favorite of mine, except for **_**20,000 Leagues Under the Sea **_**which I've never read but which is mentioned in canon as a favorite of Tom's.**

**I hope you guys like Julia. Her character was sort of a blank slate - the only thing that was ever firmly established even in books was that she supported Tom no matter what, so I worked with that and my own ideas. I based her character in part off of Mrs. Weasley from the Harry Potter series and in part off of the mothers of two of my own friends.  
**

**Please review.**


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Love and Loss

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Nineteen: Love and Loss**_

"What are you reading?" Asil - now nearly eight years old - looked up at her.

"Oh, it's called _Black Beauty. _It kind of reminds me of myself."

"What is the topic?"

"It's about a horse in a time where horses were considered by many to be property, not worthy of respect or rights. This particular horse is sold from owner to owner with no say in his own fate, only able to hope for a better future."

"I do not comprehend. You say the book details the story of a horse, but you are human. No one considers you property. You have a say in your own future. From whence comes the comparison?"

"I was bounced from place to place before I ended up here and I didn't have much say in it." She marked the book and put it down, aware that she wouldn't get out of this without a lengthy explanation. "After my parents died, my fate was left up to chance and luck. I had some ability to fight for my own survival, but in other ways I was at the mercy of people more powerful than me. Then, once I got into Federation custody, other people had to make decisions for me because I was legally underage."

"Would that not have been the case if you had had parents as well?"

"Yes and no. Parents are more likely to take the desires of their children into account, to have a relationship with them and really understand them. That doesn't mean parents always give children what they want, but they listen and take individual interests into account. It's also more or less stable. A child may be moved from place to place, like when you and your brothers moved from Vulcan to Earth, but the family unit stays stable. When I was moved from place to place, my guardian changed, the people around me changed."

"I still do not understand."

"I hope you never do."

"That does not make logical sense. Why would you wish for me to remain ignorant?"

"Asil, there are some things you can't understand unless you live through them, and I hope that you never have to live through that. Therefore, I hope you never understand."

"Then that statement is an expression of concern for my well-being."

"Yes."

"Okay."

xxxxxxxxx

"Can you believe this is our last year?" Tom said incredulously. "It feels like last week we were first years."

"Yeah, really. You think we'll get a ship together after we graduate?"

"Probably not immediately. It's really hard to do that right out of the Academy, since we're at the bottom of the chain. Maybe later on."

"I'm not even sure I'm going to get a ship," Deanna put in, "at least not immediately. Most of the lower-level counselor positions available are on Earth, and like Tom said, you don't get to pick and choose when you're fresh out of the Academy."

"Once we're more experienced we'll have more bargaining power." Tom took up the explanation again. "We'll have more of a choice of where we want to go, and that's when we can aim to get on the same ship."

But, she quickly found out, she'd lose one friend before graduation. For two weeks, she walked daily to the spot on the grounds where she'd always met with Data. But she never saw him. Finally, after two weeks, she asked after him. She was informed that he'd been transferred to Starbase 20.

He had left without saying goodbye. Just like Kate and Ben had. A few years ago, she might have thought that normal, but now she knew better. They'd abandoned her.

xxxxxxxxx

Things happened fast in the Paris household, Tasha learned within five minutes of her arrival for the Christmas celebration. Kathleen, who'd been engaged during the previous Christmas holiday, had been married in March and was now seven months pregnant. Not that that seemed to slow her down any. She avoided skiing or sledding, but seemed all too happy to watch and throw snowballs at those who were participating in said activities. The day after Christmas, the hill was packed, and the mischievous oldest Paris girl was launching little missiles at the others. That was when it happened. A couple of the younger children decided to get their revenge on the firer of snowballs. Tasha saw them moving out of the corner of her eye, saw them creep up on Kathleen...

"Kathleen, look out!" she shouted. But it was a second too late. The two kids jumped on her at once, and Kathleen tumbled down the steep hill.

Tasha had been about halfway up when the incident occurred. She thew herself onto her sled, taking the rest of the hill with as much speed as possible, and she was the first to reach Kathleen.

"Are you all right?"

"What happened?"

"Couple of the kids jumped on you. Are you all right?"

"I feel fine." Just as quickly, though, she drew a sharp breath her hand moved down to her stomach.

"What is it, honey?" Julia had appeared beside them.

"I don't know. It hurts suddenly."

Julia frowned. "I'd like to have you examined, make sure it's nothing serious."

"You've done this before, I haven't." Kathleen drew another pained breath. "Yeah, I think you'd better."

"Tasha, dear, run back to the house and find Owen and Bryan. Tell them to hurry out here."

Tasha scrambled up the hill and into the house. "Bryan! Admiral Paris! Bryan!"

She kept shouting until both men finally came into the hall. She started to explain, only for Bryan to race out the door halfway through. The Admiral was somewhat calmer, placing a call to the doctor before joining Bryan on the hill.

xxxxxxxxx

"Well?" Everyone was staring at the Admiral as he finished the call with Bryan.

"The doctors had to perform an emergency fetal transport, but Kathleen's going to be fine."

"Fetal transport?" Moira asked. "You mean they removed the baby?"

The Admiral nodded gravely.

"But she was only seven months pregnant!" Tasha exclaimed.

"Yes, that's true. The baby's been put on life support, but he's expected to live."

"He?" Julia squealed.

"Yes, he." Paris smiled.

"But Admiral, she's only seven months! It's too early for the baby!" Tasha was still stuck on this point.

"Tom was born earlier, he survived. With Federation medical technology, we can save premature babies easily. Babies don't die from being born too early anymore, Tasha. Don't worry."

He turned to Julia and started talking to her. No one noticed that Tasha slipped out silently.

It wasn't until five minutes later that Tom realized his friend wasn't there and asked about it. No one remembered seeing her leave, but one benefit of snow was that it was easy to track someone who had walked through it. He found her sitting on another hill, half a mile away. When he got closer, he could hear soft sobs.

She was crying. He'd never seen her cry, even when she was talking about her childhood. This only reinforced his certainty that whatever it was was serious.

"Hey."

She gave no indication she'd heard him, but he knew she had.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit." He sat down next to her and took her hand. "Come on, tell me."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's obvious. But it's also obvious that you're in pain. A lot of pain. I want to help you, Tasha. But I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"It's not that bad. I can deal with it."

"Like hell you can. I've never seen you this upset before, even when you were telling me about everything you were put through as a child. Tasha, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"The baby - Kathleen's baby. He's so early."

Tom gripped her shoulders. "He'll survive, Tasha. He'll be fine, trust me."

"I know. I _know_. I just -"

"Just what?" he pressed gently.

"Your father said that babies don't die from premature birth anymore."

"Absolutely true." He was trying to reassure her, but instead she looked like she was going to cry again.

"It's not true, Tom. It's not. They don't die if they have access to medical facilities right away. They don't die if the technology is there to keep them alive."

"Tasha, what are you -" it occurred to him suddenly what perspective she was coming from. "You've seen premature babies die - no, there must have been more to it than that. You knew someone who lost a baby."

"No, Tom," she whispered. "_I_ lost a baby."

It took Tom a minute to process what she'd said. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. When?"

"I was fourteen." She no longer had the will to keep herself from crying. Tom took her into his arms, holding her against his chest. The story spilled out of her in bits, between her sobs.

"Her name was Eva. She lived only a day and a half. She was two months early, like Kathleen's baby. There was no medical help, no incubators. She died, and part of me died with her. I had to bury her inside a wall to keep her body from being destroyed." This last brought on a fresh flood of tears.

"Tasha, if she could see that, I'm sure she understood." He rubbed her back gently. "It wasn't your fault, Tasha, there isn't anything you could have done."

She was sobbing openly into his coat now, clinging to him, and for the first time he realized that she really was barely older than him. He'd always known it intellectually, of course, but in his mind she'd seemed ages older than him, her experiences having aged and tempered her beyond her years. Now he was seeing a vulnerable side of her and realizing how young she actually was.

"You're shivering." He wasn't sure that was the most appropriate thing to say, but it was absolutely true. He realized for the first time that she wasn't wearing a coat or boots - she must have run out of the house without them.

She seemed to realize that too. "Oops."

"Let's get back inside before my mother completely loses her mind." He stood up and helped her to her feet.

"Do I look like I've been crying?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell."

"Good. Because if I look bad, your mother will never leave me alone."

He smiled. "You're right about that!" Then he became serious. "Tasha, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Do you ever wish it had never happened? That you'd never been pregnant or had your daughter?"

"In a moment, sure. But seriously? No. I loved Eva, and as hard as it is for me to live without her, I can't imagine what it would be like to never have had her."

Unbeknownst to Tom, this discussion would resonate in his memories years in the future, thousands of light-years away, under circumstances similar and yet different. But for now, he just walked with her.

xxxxxxxxx

Things got back to normal soon enough. In the excitement over Kathleen's baby, no one really remembered Tasha's disappearing act.

But, Tom thought as he watched Tasha play with Monica on New Year's Eve, he'd never really see her actions the same way again. He realized now that she indulged the children as a poor substitute for what she could never have back.

**I realize some of this may be a rehash for those of you who read **_**Big Doors**_**, but bear with me, please. The backstory is the same but the circumstances of the telling are different.**

**The mention of Tom's remembering the conversation years in the future is a reference to a Voyager episode. Brownie points to anyone who can guess the episode! A hint: it's in Season 3.**

**The **_**Black Beauty**_** similarity was something I was thinking, so I included it.**

**Please review. Pretty please?**


	20. Chapter Twenty: The End, The Beginning

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty: The End, The Beginning**_

"All right, tell me. What's going on?" Tasha's empathic friend had been behaving strangely for the past day.

"Well, it's Tom and me. We - we decided to stop seeing each other."

"What? Why?"

"It just wasn't working out. We don't have feelings for each other anymore."

"How did you figure that out?"

"We were talking about what we were going to do after graduation, what with him going off into space and me staying here on Earth, and we realized we didn't have that much commitment to staying together. We're still friends, we'll always be friends, but that's all we are - really, that's all we've been for awhile, we just hadn't made it official. Nothing about our relationship has really changed, except that now we can date other people."

"I still think you two were a wonderful couple."

"We were. But it wasn't meant to be. You'll understand someday. You'll meet him, and you'll get to know him, and you'll just _know_ you were meant to be together forever."

"How would you know?"

"After my father died, my mother's telepathic shields were weak, and I was able to see how she felt about him - her grief, but also her love. Her whole world was wrapped up in him, and I'm sure his was in her as well."

"Wow."

"I know. Even the echo was amazing. I can't imagine what the real thing must feel like."

xxxxxxxxx

"Well?" Tasha looked between her two friends. "What did you get?"

"You first!" Deanna protested. "You brought it up."

"The _Victory_. Nothing special, but they're shorthanded a bit in the security department so there's probably room to move up."

"The _Copernicus_. Relief flight controller. Not bad for an Ensign fresh out of the academy."

"Not bad at all. What about you, Deanna?"

"An Earth assignment at Headquarters. Not my first choice but it might help me meet people and the like, you know?"

Tom lifted his glass of juice. "To meeting people!"

"To promotions!" Tasha chimed in.

"To graduation!" Deanna added.

They continued throwing out suggestions, each more ridiculous than the last, until the entire cafeteria was staring at them, though they didn't care.

"To all of us." Tasha threw out a serious suggestion, and it was taken up by the rest.

"To all of us."

xxxxxxxxx

Deanna all but sprinted into the room, glancing back at the door to make sure it shut behind her. Tasha looked up. "Who are you running from?"

"My mother."

"Your mother?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

"You know what I mean! Why in the galaxy are you running from your mother?"

"Oh, you'll understand. Just wait until you meet her."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha had never met a full Betazoid before, and she had to wonder if they were all like that. Lwaxana Troi's outfits could be seen from a kilometer away, and she seemed determined to throw herself at every unattached man there. Tom finally asked the question that had been on Tasha's mind.

"No, no." Deanna laughed, shaking her head. "That's just Mother - daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and heir to the holy rings of Betazed." She did the last bit in a convincing enough imitation of Lwaxana to bring both of her friends to giggles. "I love her, but we're so different."

"Tell me about it." Tom sighed. "That's how I feel about my dad sometimes."

"I think that's the lot of parents, to be at odds with their children." Deanna grinned.

Tom noticed that Tasha was uncharacteristically silent, and glanced over at her. She had a wistful look on her face.

_If I had grown up with parents_, she was wondering, _would I have come to this point where I didn't get along with them?_ Then another thought, unbidden, entered her mind. _If Eva had grown up, would we have been close? Or would she have been as ill at ease with me as Tom and Deanna are with their parents._

Tom apparently realized she was uncomfortable, because he abruptly changed the subject. "So who's Mrs. Troi's latest target?"

"This hour? No idea."

xxxxxxxxx

The three of them sat over their meals, no one really wanting to finish. The Starfleet Academy cafeteria had never been anything special, but they were all keenly aware that this would probably be their last meal there.

Tasha got a small smile on her face, then went and replicated a small bottle of sparkling lemonade. "Let's have another toast!"

"You mean another _Rent_ moment, don't you?" Tom laughed.

"Another - what?" Tasha looked at Deanna, who gave her an _I don't have a clue_ look.

"Right, sorry. _Rent _is a musical dramatization about a group of friends living at the end of the 20th century - very long story and complicated to explain. But at one point all the friends are in this restaurant, and they all get up and start proposing these outrageous toasts to all the crazy things their lives revolve around. Sort of like what we did a couple weeks ago times a hundred."

"Well, we won't get that crazy. But seriously. To wherever our future takes us."

"To the Academy," Deanna added.

"To our friendship," Tom put in, "which most certainly will not end on Saturday."

"I'll drink to that." Tasha extended her glass to meet Tom's.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha could see that many of her classmates were craning their necks, looking for friends and family in the audience. She didn't bother. She'd already found the Parises, and she knew where Tuvok would be - with the rest of the staff.

"Oh my God, look at that!"

There had been several such exclamations from the group; in a crowd that size, extraordinary things were bound to happen.

"What? What?"

Her classmates really got excited over the smallest things.

"Look, there! Don't you see it?"

"No way!"

"I know, right? Who'd have figured him as the family type? He's so, so -"

"So Vulcan?"

"Yeah! I mean, a wife _and_ a kid?"

Was it possible? For the first time, Tasha looked over the crowd.

She found the cause of her classmates' excitement almost immediately. Tuvok was sitting with the staff, right where she'd expected him to be. Two seats over from him was T'Pel. And in between, their adorable nine-year-old daughter.

Tasha wasn't sure, but she doubted it was standard practice for the man's wife and daughter to attend the ceremony. She smiled. She had family there as much as anyone else.

"Four, actually," she put in.

"Four what?" someone asked.

"Four kids."

They all sputtered. "How do you know that?"

She just smiled, ignoring the pestering. Then the speaker stepped up to the podium and everyone fell silent.

The speaker spoke, and then the valedictorian and salutatorian made speeches of their own. Then, finally, it was time to call the graduating class.

It took awhile before any of Tasha's friends were up. Mari was first, then Tom a few minutes later, and Deanna after him. Tasha was the last member of the class to be called.

Deanna was crying when Tasha found her, and Tom's eyes were suspiciously bright. Then again, so were hers. The three of them clustered into a long, tight hug.

"I'm going to miss you two so much!" Deanna sobbed.

When the other two had agreed, albeit a little more calmly, the three split, promising to meet before Tom shipped out the following week. Tasha was caught up in a hug by Julia Paris before she finally made her way to her own family.

There was no hugging here, not like the other families. But Tasha looked her mentor in the eye and said, "I just want you - all of you - to know how much it means to me to have you here."

And Tuvok nodded, and T'Pel did the same, and Tasha swore she saw a faint smile on her baby sister's face. And that was enough.

xxxxxxxxx

"When do you leave?"

"Next month, I leave for Starbase 47. Then I rendezvous with the _Victory_ a week later."

"And when do you return?"

It sounded like a simple inquiry, but Tasha knew the little girl better than that. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "But as soon as I am back I'll come see you. Okay?"

"Okay."

**The **_**Rent**_** reference was something I came up with listening to "La Vie Boheme" and realizing how similar the wild toasts were to that.**

**Just a heads-up: this story has something like ten chapters left to go, and **_**Big Doors**_** has about four. So sorry to **_**Big Doors**_** readers but I'll be updating this one more frequently because it's my intention to post the last chapters of both stories and the first chapter of the mutual sequel all on the same day. I'm also looking for suggestions for sequel titles - if you have ideas, leave them in reviews!  
**

**Please review.**


	21. Chapter TwentyOne: What The Blind See

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-One: What The Blind See**_

Tasha had never thought it was possible to be so annoyed with weddings. In fact, it wasn't really the wedding itself that bothered her. It was the surrounding environment.

The lieutenant and crewman marrying had decided to make a big production out of things, and had invited the entire crew. However, it was quickly becoming a couples event. Established couples were attending as pairs, but others were going around trying to get dates like it was the Sadie Hawkins. As a young, single, and attractive female, she'd already turned down three separate requests, all from men who just stared at her the whole time, who had in her past year of service aboard never even spoken to her. She knew she was possibly oversensitive, but she didn't want another Sadie Hawkins experience, not did she want to be someone's 'arm candy' as Tom Paris would have called it. She would go single or not at all.

At least, that had been her original plan. But her roommate was determined to make it otherwise, and she wasn't as understanding as Deanna Troi. Tasha knew she'd have to find a date for herself or risk a blind date. The trouble was, she needed someone single, kind, interested, and who would keep their distance. There just wasn't anyone like that on the ship.

"Um, mind if I join you?"

She glanced up to see someone she vaguely recognized standing by the other chair. "Uh, no. Go ahead." He was a shuttle pilot, from what she could recall.

It was a little strange, talking to him. Much of what Deanna had taught her about reading people had to do with their eyes, but she couldn't see his eyes. He was wearing a strange metal device over them.

"I know what you're thinking."

"What?"

"You're wondering why I wear this. The answer is I have to. It's the closest thing I have to eyes."

"You're blind," she realized.

"Yep."

Tasha began to relax a little. Once she got past not seeing his eyes, she realized he had an extremely expressive face. It was as easy to read as anyone's eyes.

"I'm afraid I can't recall your name."

"Whoops, sorry. It's Geordi. Geordi La Forge."

"Tasha Yar."

"Yeah, I know. Um..."

Tasha couldn't help smiling at the man's shyness. "Yes?"

"I - I, uh, I keep meaning to talk to you. I just never seem to get up the courage to do it."

"You're doing fine."

He smiled and relaxed a little. "Thanks."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, uh, don't take this the wrong way or anything, that is I'm not aiming for anything serious, that is youwanttogototheweddingwithme?"

"What?" The whole last part of the sentence had come out in an unintelligible jumble of syllables.

"Do you want to go to the wedding with me? I mean, as my date?"

Tasha was momentarily taken aback, and her first instinct was to say no. But he'd already said he didn't intend for this to get serious, and he actually seemed nice. Maybe he was the answer to her wishes.

"Okay," she said. "I'll go with you."

"Great! I - uh, I'll meet you, well, I could pick you up -"

"My quarters are on Deck Seven, Section Four." She smiled again at his awkwardness.

"All right, great."

"Hey. What are you going to be wearing?" The invitation had specified that they could appear in either dress uniform or civilian formal, and she knew her roommate would insist upon the latter.

"Uh, why?"

"Because my roommate's going to ask me so she can coordinate. And I want to give her an answer besides 'I don't know' or she'll never leave me alone."

"Oh, okay. I'm just wearing dress uniform - I have no real sense of color coordination and I don't want to try. Your roommate can do the coordination for us."

Tasha laughed despite herself. "All right, then."

"Ensign La Forge, please report to the shuttlebay."

"Oops. I'll see you later."

"Okay." As Geordi hurried off, Tasha did too. She walked into her quarters and was instantly barraged by her roommate, Sarah. "Hey, Tasha, I was thinking I could set you up with -"

"No."

"Tasha -"

"No."

"I didn't even tell you who yet!"

"Doesn't matter."

"I am not letting you be the only girl there without a date. Now why won't you at least consider -"

"Because," she interrupted, "Geordi La Forge asked me in the mess hall. And I said yes."

"Oh my God, you _did_?" she squealed. "Wait. Who's Geordi La Forge?"

"He's a shuttle pilot."

"Oh, come on, Tasha. You can do better than a _shuttle pilot_, for heaven's sake. This guy's a lieutenant."

"I told Geordi I'd go with him. Anyway, I like him. He's sweet."

"Fine, whatever. At least you have a date. You know what he'll be wearing?"

"He said he'll just be in dress uniform. He's a pilot so that's red."

"Red, hmm? Well, let's see what we can do with that?"

xxxxxxxxx

The dress her roommate came up with was a soft champagne that came to mid-calf. As per Tasha's insistence, it wasn't overly dressy, but it did have a certain elegance, and Tasha had to admit it actually looked pretty good. She was just glad she'd talked the girl out of the heels she'd had in mind. The stiff flats were uncomfortable enough.

Sarah's own dress was far more outrageous and took a lot longer to get on. As she exited the room, she bumped into someone.

"Hey, what are you doing hovering around the door like that?"

"Sorry." It was a familiar voice, but it was a lot less hesitant than it had been the last time she heard it. "Just waiting for someone."

"Me, right? You just had to get a look at me, even though I'd never date a lowlife like you. You like what you see? Oh, wait, you can't see it, can you?"

God, Sarah could be such a snob. "Actually, he was waiting for me." Tasha spoke up on her friend's behalf.

"Oh, well, then I'll leave you two to it," she said airily, and hurried off.

"I'm sorry about my roommate. She gets like that sometimes."

"It's okay. I'm used to it." But Tasha could tell he was hurt.

"You shouldn't be. You don't deserve to have to put up with that."

He looked over at her. "You know, you're the first person besides my parents to ever tell me that. Most people just told me to get a tougher skin."

"Do me a favor. Don't."

"Huh?"

"I barely know you, but I think I like you the way you are. You don't seem particularly thin-skinned, and you have a right to be upset. You do know I turned down three men before I said yes to you?"

"You did?"

"I did. They wanted to move fast and be in charge and maybe they'd be considered thick-skinned but I hate that attitude. You were as shy about this as I was, and I liked that."

"I wish I could give you a compliment, but you'd know I was making it up."

"That's another thing I like about you. Two things really. First of all, you're honest. Second, I'm absolutely, positively sure you're not going with me just because of the way I look."

He laughed. "Well, much as I'm enjoying this, we won't be going anywhere if we don't hurry."

He offered his arm and she took it, smiling.

xxxxxxxxx

"I don't really know how to dance," Geordi admitted.

"That's okay. I don't either."

"You don't?"

"Nope."

"Well, the way I see it, we have one of two options. The first is to sit here all night."

"And the second?"

"The second is to dance anyway."

"I'm up for it if you are."

No one on the floor was dancing as haphazardly as they were, but no one was having more fun either. Though they saw more than a few couples leaving early, the two of them didn't leave until the official end. They were having too much of a good time.

Tasha and Geordi left together and he even walked her back to her quarters. "I - that's the most fun I've had in a long time."

She smiled. "Likewise."

She wasn't exactly sure how it started or who started it. One minute they were standing there together, and the next they were locked in a gentle kiss.

"Wow," he whispered when they separated.

"Yeah," she whispered back.

"So, uh, when do you get off on Tuesday?"

"That's the day after tomorrow?" Tasha didn't normally need to ask but she was understandably disoriented. "Um, 1700."

"I get off at 1800."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Oh, definitely. Meet me on Holodeck Three at 1830? I'll handle the reservations and the program."

"Okay."

He leaned over and kissed her gently again. "I'll see you then."

Tasha found Sarah in their quarters, already out of her dress and on her bed. "Where have you been?"

"The wedding only just ended." Tasha slid down the zipper on her dress and slipped it off.

"You don't have to stay until the end, you know."

"Yeah, but why not? It wasn't like we had anywhere else to be, and neither of us has an early morning tomorrow."

"Tasha, that - that guy. The blind guy. He wasn't actually your date, was he?"

"As a matter of fact, he was."

"Oh, come on. You went with that over the guys you turned down?"

"Yep, I did. And not only that, we're meeting the day after tomorrow for another date."

"You're crazy."

"And," she continued as if Sarah had not spoken, "he kissed me twice. Tell me, did your date kiss you?" Tasha wasn't normally the type to smirk, but she was sick of her roommate's superior attitude.

"He's using you, Tasha! He's being all nice to you because you're the only girl who will go within five feet of him."

"Then everyone else is missing out." She flopped down on her bunk and turned her back.

**I got this idea partly from the fact that the novel **_**The Buried Age**_** has Geordi and Tasha both serving on the **_**Victory**_** and partly because of Tasha and Geordi's relationship in the first season. I know some of his actions can be put down to having an insane crush, but they seem friendly at least right from the start, so I decided to play with that. She also mentions something in "Skin of Evil" about him being there "in the times I felt the most despair." However we only see one such example onscreen, so it's not much of a stretch to say the other examples happened before TNG. One of those will be in the next chapter.**

**Note I changed a line of dialogue at the end of _Big Doors_ Chapter 26 to reflect this relationship, which hadn't been mentioned originally.  
**

**Please review. I'm still looking for potential sequel titles!**


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo: Up and Down

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Two: Up and Down**_

"You've made a request for a new room assignment, Ensign. May I ask why?"

Tasha faced the personnel officer. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"I had a feeling you were going to say that. Proceed."

"My current roommate and I have been having problems. Frankly, sir, I find her arrogant and selfish."

"You'll have to be more specific, Ensign."

"The specific problems have resulted from my involvement with another member of the crew."

"Ah. Ensign La Forge. It's my job to know what's going on with the officers on this ship," he added in response to her unspoken question. "And this has caused problems with your roommate?"

"To put it mildly. She insults him every time she sees him, insults him to _me_ when he's not around, and has tried to interfere directly in our relationship. I've tried to deal with it privately, but there comes a point when enough is enough."

"When you say interfere -"

"Keep me from meeting him, or vice-versa. Distract me so I lose track of time. And I suspect she's tampered with our comm messages - both of us have failed to recieve messages the other knows were sent."

He nodded seriously. "As it happens, your timing couldn't be better. There's been another request filed recently, and I've been looking for a way to rearrange things. I'll get this cleared and give all of you details as soon as possible."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha had been pleasantly surprised to find that her new roommate was a Vulcan. T'Kaira's roommate, she gathered, had become frustrated with the woman, a recent transfer. Well, she and Sarah would be perfect for each other. Tasha snickered to herself.

"What is it you find humorous? If you do not mind the question."

"I don't. I was just thinking, our former roommates are either going to be the best of friends or they'll drive each other up the wall."

"I do not believe that would be possible."

"What?"

"The walls are smooth. To ascend one without proper climbing gear would be nearly impossible."

Tasha laughed out loud this time. "No, no, it's an expression. It means they'd become extremely annoyed with each other."

T'Kaira nodded. "For what reason?"

"Well, your roommate requested the transfer because she was having trouble dealing with your Vulcan characteristics. In essence, she had trouble with the fact that you were different than her."

"That is true."

"And my own roommate and I ended up with a problem because my boyfriend is blind."

"Forgive me, I am still unfamiliar with human metaphor. When you say he is blind, to what are you referring?"

"I mean literally. He wears a visual prosthetic. But because he's different, she couldn't accept him, and even tried to prevent the success of our relationship."

"So what you are saying is that although the individual situations are different, this underlying concept of - what is the phrase, slender-mindedness?"

"Narrow-mindedness." Tasha just barely bit back a giggle.

"This underlying concept of narrow-mindedness is the same?"

"Exactly. And they'll either bond because of that similarity or it will cause them to judge each other as they judged us."

"Ah."

Her combadge chirped. "La Forge to Yar."

"Yes?"

"Hey, guess who's got tonight free after all?"

"Really?"

"Yep. I'm over in the mess hall if you want to join me. I've even saved us a table."

"I'll meet you there." She turned back to her new roommate. "If it's okay with you, I think we can continue this conversation later."

"That would be acceptable."

"Okay, I'll see you!" Tasha all but skipped out the door, leaving T'Kaira with two observations. One, Ensign Yar seemed far more tolerant than her last roommate. And two, humans behaved strangely when they experienced that strange emotion called love.

xxxxxxxxx

"So, we're free of Sarah now?"

"I wouldn't say that. But I don't have to deal with her on a daily basis, so you don't have to deal with her whenever you want to be with me. And she doesn't have access to my comm channel or my stuff anymore."

"Well, that's a good thing."

"Hey, what's that massive mess?"

"It's called a chocolate sundae," she teased. "My roommate at the Academy couldn't get enough of them. I think she's made a convert of me."

"You're going to eat that whole thing?"

"Nope, I'm going to eat half."

"And what happens to the other half? I may not be your old roommate, but I know ice cream doesn't keep."

"You're going to eat it." She handed him a spoon.

"You could have gotten us two small separate sundaes."

"But that wouldn't have been as nice."

He smiled. "You're right about that. But you know what would be even nicer?"

"What?"

He took a spoonful of the ice cream, but instead of eating it, he put it to her lips. "Open up."

She giggled and allowed him to feed her. Then she fed him a spoonful. It took longer to finish this way, but it was nice. Very nice.

xxxxxxxxx

This wasn't supposed to happen. A simple diplomatic mission, they'd said. Tasha had been assigned as part of the security team to guard the man, which she'd known was a compliment, a testament to her skills. But she'd been getting some odd looks from the Ambassador. She'd tried not to let it bother her. Someone had mentioned that Talarian society was extremely patriarchal, and Tasha thought he might just be put off by having a female security officer guarding him.

That was until she had heard him yelling while she was outside the door. She'd hit the chime several times, and when no response was forthcoming, she'd used her override codes to open the door.

Only to find him sitting on a chair, looking fine.

"Ambassador, are you all right?"

"Much better now that you're here."

"I heard you screaming. What happened?"

"What? Oh, nothing happened. But it sure got your attention, didn't it?"

"You mean you did that to see if we would come running?" She had been disgusted.

"No, no. I did it because I knew you were passing by and I hoped_ you _would come running."

"What?"

"You think you're just like a man, don't you? Strong, a fighter. But women aren't supposed to be like that. Men are fighters, women are wives, _Ensign_." He spat her rank like a slur. "You know what women are good for? Cleaning, cooking, having and caring for children," he missed the agonized look on her face, "and comforting men after a long day. Now these quarters are clean, the replicator makes my meals, and I have no desire for children. But it's been a long day. A very long day."

"Absolutely not!" Tasha had been shocked at what he was suggesting.

"There's another thing about women. A good woman does what a man says."

"Then I'm not a good woman." She had known she was to be as polite to him as possible, but he was really testing her nerves. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be going now."

It was at that point that it had been made clear there was a problem, for he stepped in front of the door. "I don't think so." He input something into the computer.

No, this definitely wasn't supposed to happen.

Tasha slapped her combadge. "Yar to Security -" She was cut off when he brought his hand down across her face, hard enough to snap her head to the side. Before she could recover, he snatched her combadge.

"I'll teach you." His face was so close she could feel his breath. "Oh, I'll teach you. And I'll enjoy every second."

She struck out, catching him in the chest, but his torso was more protected than a human's might have been and the blow didn't even stun him. He shoved her against the wall, restraining her arms so she couldn't protect her head. He pulled her forward and then threw her across the room.

Dazed, she scrambled to her feet and flung herself at the comm panel. "Yar to La Forge!" she got out before he ripped her away and shoved her to the floor. Before she could get enough breath to scream, he kicked her in the stomach. She pulled her legs in, trying to defend herself, but he grabbed her under the arms and threw her onto the couch, positioning himself over her. She kicked hard and lashed out with her fist, but he was a lot bigger than she was and she was still dazed from the blow to her head. He could fight better than she could, and he just rained down blows, trying to subdue her enough so he could rape her. She hoped that someone, anyone, would take a hint from her cut-off calls and come down before it was too late.

xxxxxxxxx

"Yar to La Forge."

That she had called him unexpectedly wasn't unusual at all, though her calling him while he was on duty was a little odd. What really got his attention was the panicked tone in her voice.

"Tasha. Tasha, are you there?"

No answer.

"La Forge to Yar. Tasha, answer me."

No answer.

"Computer, locate Ensign Yar."

"Ensign Yar is in the ambassador's guest quarters, deck eight, section twelve."

He was already on his way out the door. "Deck eight," he told the turbolift. He sprinted out of it as soon as the doors opened. He rang the chime on the ambassador's doors, but no one answered.

"Computer, is Ensign Yar still inside these quarters?"

"Affirmative."

"Is the ambassador in there as well?"

"Affirmative."

"La Forge to Yar. Tasha! Tasha, what's going on?" He rang the chime again. Still, no one answered.

"Security to the Ambassador's quarters!" He wasn't positive there was a problem, but his instincts told him there was one, and anyway he'd rather err on the side of caution.

"Ensign, what seems to be the trouble?" The security officers approached. He'd never been so glad to see anyone.

"I'm not sure, but I think there's a problem. I've rung the chime twice and no one's answering, but I know Ensign Yar and the ambassador are both in there. And Tasha's not answering her combadge either." He spoke just slowly enough that they could make out his words.

"Why are you ringing the chime in the first place?"

"She called me - Tasha did. She sounded panicked, and when I tried to call her back she didn't answer."

One security officer pressed the chime. Still nothing happened.

"This is security! Open the door!"

Still nothing.

The security officer sighed and then input an override code. "You'd better hope this isn't a false alarm."

The door didn't open.

"What the hell?" He tried the code again. Still nothing.

"There's something wrong with the mechanism." Now the lieutenant in charge seemed a little on edge. "Ensign, you're something of an engineer. Can you fix it?"

"I think so." He yanked the panel off the wall. Concern kept him focused, and in two minutes he'd managed to force the release of the lock.

"Be prepared for a problem," he told the security team. "It looks to me like someone intentionally scrambled the mechanism."

"Understood." The four of them took hold of the doors and yanked them open wide enough to get through. "Phasers on stun."

No one, not even Geordi, expected what they found there. The ambassador was kneeling on top of Tasha, restraining her with his weight as he ran his hands over her naked body. She was obviously hurt badly, but she was still trying to fight, and Geordi, whose hearing was unusually keen, could hear her whispering, pleading with him. Niether of them had noticed they had company.

"Ambassador!" The lieutenant sounded shocked. They had expected a third party, an intruder maybe, certainly not the ambassador himself.

The Talarian looked over, as shocked as they were. Tasha didn't even move. Geordi realized that she probably hadn't registered their presence yet.

"Ambassador, you're under arrest."

"I don't think so." He rushed at the team, only to be hit by three stun blasts at once. He dropped like a stone.

Geordi hadn't even been paying attention to the Ambassador's actions after he jumped off the couch. His entire focus was on the woman lying on it He replicated a blanket and hurried over to her.

He placed a hand over hers, and she lashed out at him. He realized then that her eyes were so swollen she couldn't see him.

"Tasha? Tasha, it's okay, I'm here now. We've got the Ambassador under arrest." He repeated the statements over and over until he got through and she relaxed. He slid the blanket around her, and she hugged it to herself weakly. He rested his hand on her arm.

"La Forge to transporter room, medical emergency. Two to beam directly to sickbay."

The two of them dematerialized.

xxxxxxxxx

Coming back to consciousness was like trying to swim to the surface when you were kilometers underwater. But eventually she blinked her eyes open and stared at the sickbay ceiling.

She remembered the Ambassador screaming and running into his quarters. She remembered him attacking her, then - then what? She struggled to bring that memory forward.

It came to her slowly, like the memory of a dream. Geordi. Geordi had been there. Was he still there? She turned her head.

"Whoa, easy."

He still wasn't in her field of vision, but she could hear him.

"Geordi?" Her voice came out in a dry rasp. Instantly, she felt a cup of water against her lips.

"Drink slowly, you're still healing."

"What happened?" She turned to face him.

"When I got your call, I could tell something was wrong, and then I couldn't raise you or get into the ambassador's quarters, so I called security. Even then, he locked us out and deactivated the security override."

"How did you get in?"

"I re-wired the door. What did he want?"

"To teach me what a woman was good for," she said disgustedly, but Geordi could tell she was upset and scared underneath that disgust. "He beat me because I was trying to fight him."

"It's a good thing you did. You bought yourself and us some time."

"I don't think I've ever been happier to hear a voice than I was to hear yours. I couldn't have held him off much longer. How long was I out?"

"A couple hours. Doc said you were lucky to come out of it without permanent damage. He cracked your skull, broke your jaw and two other bones in your face, shattered a rib -" he choked, trying not to cry. Knowing his beloved girlfriend could so easily have been raped or killed was tearing him apart.

She reached out for his hand, and he gave it to her. "I was so scared," she admitted. "The whole time I was fighting, I was just desperate. I knew what he wanted to do to me, and all I knew was I couldn't let him. When he had me pinned down, I was praying that someone, anyone, would come for me. And someone did. You did."

He carefully helped her into a sitting position so he could hug her. He felt her hands in his shirt, clinging desperately to him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"It's okay, it's okay, he can't hurt you now." He ran his hands gently over her back, mindful of her still-healing injuries. He didn't understand how anyone could be so cruel.

"Stay with me?" Her voice was so shaky that it nearly broke his heart.

"I'll stay," he whispered. "I'll stay."

**I think I've been watching a little too much "I Survived" lately, because that's probably where I got the idea for this chapter. That and what I mentioned about Tasha's last words in the last chapter.**

**The Talarians are not my own invention. Their race was introduced as a strong patriarchy in "Suddenly Human". My concept for the ambassador is he went off the deep end with his culture's treatment of women.**

**Please review.**


	23. Chapter TwentyThree: I Love You

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Three: I Love You**_

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Oh, come on, Tasha. Just do it."

She sighed and slid her eyelids into place. "Okay, they're closed."

She Geordi shuffling around, and then the tray on her bed was slid into place and something was rested on it. "Okay, you can open them."

A chocolate sundae rested on the table. This one was small, only half the size of the one they'd shared - was it really just a week ago?

"Doc wants you to eat. He didn't say what you should eat."

"I do like the way you think."

"Mhm, I figured."

"Did he say when I'll be getting out of here?" she asked between bites.

"Another day, he said. Wants to keep you under observation. The Captain wants to talk to you too, when you're up to it."

"Really? Why?"

"Said he needs a good reason why security arrested a visiting dignitary. Don't worry, he believes the story, but for it to hold up with Command he needs a personal testimony."

"Okay, fine. You might as well be here, your part of the story's as important as mine."

He knew what she was really saying; she wanted him to be there when she told her story. "If you say so."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha started to jump to attention, stopped only by Geordi's hand and the Captain's glare. "Don't try that just yet, Ensign."

Marien Zimbata was a kind-faced man, and Tasha liked him instantly, despite never actually having met him before.

"I had the doctors document your injuries as they healed you, but I'll need a personal statement. When word of this gets back to Starfleet Command, I'm going to have a mess on my hands."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Ensign, everything I've heard so far suggests you were a victim in all this. I just need all the information I can get to justify locking an ambassador in the brig." He pulled out a data recorder. "This will keep a record."

"I was walking by and I heard him yelling - he must have programmed the computer to tell him when I was there." Between Tasha and Geordi, they were able to create a cohesive account of what had happened. Zimbata switched off the recorder and frowned.

"Ensign La Forge, you said you called security when the door wouldn't open."

"Yes."

"But Ensign Yar, you said you had already called security."

"Yes, sir. But I only got out a hail before he hit me."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Ensign. I'm not disbelieving your story. But if you did call security, even if you didn't get further than a hail, it should have been investigated. Now I may have to be the one doing the investigating."

"Captain?"

"I'm launching a full investigation into security practices, and specifically whoever was in charge of relaying calls to security. I may need your testimony again, both of you."

"You'll have it, sir," Geordi assured him, and Tasha nodded her assent.

xxxxxxxxx

"How're you feeling?" Tasha was putting on a brave face, but Geordi realized she was tired after her first full shift since she'd been hurt.

"Headache," she admitted. "Look, I'm not going to be very good company tonight."

"I get that. Is there anything I can do?"

"You know a good headache remedy?"

To her surprise, he replicated a hypospray and pressed it to her neck. "There. Better?"

"Yeah, a lot better. How did you -?"

"The VISOR's good for a lot of things, but it causes horrible headaches sometimes. I try to avoid meds, and I don't take anything that could actually interfere with the VISOR, but sometimes I need something when it gets really bad. You look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted."

"Why don't you go back to your quarters and lie down. We can redo this date another day."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"What, for the headache spray?"

"You don't care that I'm canceling the date or that you're losing your chance to spend time with me. You only care about me taking care of myself." She took his head in her hands and kissed him gently. "You're a wonderful man, and I love you."

"You - what?" It was the first time she'd ever said that.

"I love you," she repeated, kissing him lightly. "I love you."

"I love you." He kissed her back, this one more passionate. "I love you, Tasha Yar. You're the most wonderful woman in the galaxy."

Tasha glanced over self-consciously at the crowded mess hall. "You know the rumor mill's going to have a field day with this one."

"Yeah, probably." He kissed her again. "But what do I care?"

xxxxxxxxx

When they'd finally stopped kissing long enough to think rationally, Geordi had walked her to her quarters. There was no one there - T'Kaira was filling in for someone on Beta Shift. He helped her lie down and covered her eyes with a towel.

"Sometimes, there's no better headache cure than darkness."

"Thanks."

She felt him slip her boots off and draw up the covers. "Now you get some sleep, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

His hand brushed her cheek, and he kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

xxxxxxxxx

"You are behaving unusually."

"Hmm?"

"You are smiling twenty-four percent more than average. You also appear less concerned with things that might have seriously bothered you in the past."

"Do I?"

"That is one example. You do not appear concerned with what I am saying. At another time, being told that your behavior is odd would have gotten your attention at least."

She shrugged. "I'm in love."

"Ah. Something I cannot comprehend."

"If you say so."

"Do you not 'say so'?"

"Not really, no."

"You are an unusual human."

"How is that?"

"You do not simply tell me I have no emotions."

"I know better."

"What do you mean?"

"I have known people of your race well, there are some I would go so far as to call family. I've seen sides of these people that I know very few people ever have, and they've been there for me when no one else was. I've come to see that Vulcan discipline isn't a black-and-white concept."

"How can a concept take a color?"

"Sorry, earth terminology. Since black and white are polar opposites, a concept or idea that is a matter of absolutes is called a black-and-white concept. If a concept isn't so absolute, it it's a matter of degree, it's described as having shades of gray."

"So what you are saying is that Vulcan discipline is not a matter of absolutes."

"Exactly. It's not like you just shut down your emotions and walk around like a machine. You may not cry or laugh or smile like humans do, but that doesn't mean you react identically to every situation. You have bonds of family, very close bonds. That can't be possible without some measure of feeling."

"Family units are essential for teaching and nurturing."

"Yes, it's true. But I've been part of one of those family units, and it's the happiest I've been in a long time."

"This would appear to be 'the happiest you have been' since I have known you."

"No, it's - it's a different kind of happy."

"These emotions of yours are very complex."

"The happiness I feel now, being with Geordi, is like - it's elation. It's like walking on air. I feel like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong. The happiness I feel with my family is more like contentment. It's not this feeling of jubilation, it's not a sense that nothing can go wrong so much as a sense that things may very well go wrong but it'll all be okay in the end. Am I making sense?"

"Yes. You are."

**I know this one's a little short, but this story's about to head in a somewhat different direction and it made sense to end the chapter here and do the next bit separately. It's smoother that way.**

**Zimbata's a character from _Elementary, Dear Data_ and elaborated on in _The Buried Age._  
**

**PS, someone who shall remain nameless expressed a certain frustration at my repetition of the rape/near rape scenes in this and **_**Big Doors.**_** I'm happy to report that those are officially over except for one canon incident (not for quite awhile) and possibly one more-or-less canon incident (it's a bit that's somewhat open to interpretation and I haven't decided yet where it's going) which also won't be for awhile, those are officially over. The two incidents I've mentioned before also will not involve Tasha directly.  
**

**Please review.**


	24. Chapter TwentyFour: 2363 64

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Four: 2363-64**_

Tasha all but danced into the mess hall. "I got it! I got the promotion! I -" she stopped short when she saw the look on Geordi's face. "Oh, no. Didn't you get a promotion this time around?"

"Yeah, I did."

"That's wonderful! What's the matter?" Tasha's promotion had been a pleasant but not altogether surprising turn of events. Since helping Zimbata with the investigation into the security blunder that had nearly cost her her life three years ago, she'd distinguished herself time and again and become more and more likely to be chosen for away missions, especially since she'd made Lieutenant JG the previous year. It had been common knowledge that she was the likely candidate the next time a senior position on the security team opened up, and so when the assistant security chief position had needed filling, the identity of his replacement hadn't been much of a mystery. Geordi, on the other hand, had been passed up for promotion more than once, due in no small part to the fact that his department was overstaffed. So his promotion, though no less deserved, was far more surprising. But he didn't look happy.

"It's a promotion to senior flight controller."

"Geordi, that's amazing!" _So what's the problem?_ she added silently, but didn't say it aloud. He'd tell her in time.

"On the _Hood._"

Tasha's face fell when she realized what was upsetting him. "So you're leaving."

"No. I'm turning the assignment down."

"Are you out of your mind?" She usually tried to keep her personal business private, but this once she didn't care if the whole galaxy heard her. "This is what you've been waiting for!"

"Tasha, I love you. These last three years have been amazing. I don't want to lose this."

"Neither do I. But I also don't want you putting your career on hold for me. You're a great pilot and engineer, and you deserve that promotion. So take it."

"I'll miss you so much."

"And I'll miss you." She kissed him.

xxxxxxxxx

"So how did you get that promotion anyway? I mean, you didn't apply for it, did you? Don't forget this." She dug out yet another treasure from the virtual junk heap they were sorting through.

"Thanks. Actually, it was Captain Picard's doing."

"Picard?" She frowned, trying to place the vaguely familiar name.

"Engine efficiency guy." He smiled as he repeated the nickname Tasha had given the Captain two months earlier after Geordi had stayed up all night correcting a problem said captain had called out. "Apparently, he was impressed."

"I would've been."

"Suck-up."

"You're not a Lieutenant quite yet. Therefore, for the moment, I outrank you, and therefore, I have no reason to suck up to you."

"Don't you?" he kissed her lightly.

"Oh, don't start now," she whispered breathlessly, "or we'll never get done packing."

"Okay, okay. But you owe me."

"Dinner tonight in my quarters instead of the mess hall?"

"That works."

xxxxxxxxx

She lay on the field, clutching at her head. She could see the colonists running into the minefield.

_Get up, get up, get up_, she told herself. It was maybe the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she pulled herself to her feet, even as she was assailed by agony, blinding and deafening and it felt like her world was falling to pieces around her. If they ran into the mines, they'd kill themselves. She would not let that happen. Could not let that happen.

She couldn't remember later how she saved the colonists. It was all a haze, a movement on autopilot. Every painful memory assailed her at once, and then one memory more painful than any other, _Eva, Eva crying in her arms, Eva sucking at her breast, Eva not breathing, Eva not moving. Eva gone, her father gone, her mother gone, Ishara gone, alone, alone..._

No longer able to fight, she collapsed, curled into a ball, barely able to move.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. She was lying on the edge of a minefield, but the memories no longer assailed her in the same way. Not that they'd disappeared. Part of Tasha wanted to curl up again, now that she no longer felt like a bomb had gone off inside of her, and cry. She hadn't felt the pain of her baby's death so intensely since she'd allowed herself to dull it with drugs. But she couldn't do that. She was a Starfleet officer now, and she had a job to do.

Hands helped her to sit up. "You okay, Lieutenant?" The concerned voice of Zimbata came from above her.

A million things flashed through her mind, and she spoke the first words that came to her lips. "What the hell happened?"

"The Manraloth happened."

"That mystical race we were chasing?" Her mission briefing had said that the ancient race was dangerous, but she hadn't imagined they could do this.

"They attempted to retrieve information stored in the black hole."

"_In_ the black hole, sir?"

"In the event horizon, more precisely. Don't ask me, this is millennia ahead of where we are. Apparently in attempting to retrieve it, they released a quarter of a billion years worth of data and random 'background noise', causing a mental overload in everyone in the immediate radius."

"It felt - it felt like an assault of my own memories."

"My guess is that was your mind's attempt to rationalize the disruption. A futile attempt to convert all the random background noise into something you had a hope of processing."

"The colonists."

"Safe. I've reviewed the tapes, no other colonists entered the minefield. Lieutenant, what you did here today was extraordinary."

"I didn't do anything, sir."

"Lieutenant, you ran out into a live minefield to rescue a colonist. I'd stop there, but I feel the need to also point out that you _resisted a mental overload_ of incredible power long enough to save several colonists."

"I wasn't able to resist."

"Lieutenant, most of the crew collapsed _immediately_ when the overload hit. Myself included. For you to resist as long as you did shows incredible strength of character. I'm placing a citation for bravery in your file, and I can tell you, the only thing I regret is that I'm unlikely to have you around much longer."

"Sir?"

"After that display, every captain in the fleet will be clamoring to get their hands on you. Now come on, Lieutenant. I'm giving everyone a day's rest and that includes you."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha wasn't sure what had woken her at first. Then she realized her comm channel was beeping.

"Yeah?" she asked sleepily.

"Tasha?"

"Geordi!"

"Oh, God. I heard what happened with the _Victory_. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little shaken."

"What happened?"

Head still spinning, she filled him in on everything that had happened on the mission. She was still talking when an alarm went off in the background.

"Oops, that's my five minute warning. Listen, I'll see you as soon as I can. And I love you."

"I love you too."

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"I was right, Lieutenant. You didn't stay on this ship four months after that incident before someone was asking for you."

"Who, sir?"

"Captain Picard, aboard the _Enterprise._ And it's a promotion too. Chief of Security and full Lieutenant."

"The _Enterprise_." She repeated numbly. She'd known they were commissioning a new one, of course, but the waiting lists for posts on the flagship were years long. To be senior staff on that ship was a dream, a fond wish, but for an officer only five years out of the Academy, to accomplish that dream was nothing short of a miracle.

"The _Enterprise_, Lieutenant. We're on course back to Earth, we'll rendezvous with them there. And Tasha? You're not getting a thing you haven't earned."

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and Tasha? We'll be arriving on earth several weeks before the _Enterprise_ is scheduled to depart. If you want to look up some old friends, that would be the time to do it."

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha!"

Tasha had barely stepped through the door before she was engulfed in a hug by her curly-haired friend.

"It's so good to see you again."

"Likewise." Tasha disengaged herself from Deanna. "So you're still stranded on planet assignments?"

"Nope." Her eyes were sparkling. "I just got my first ship posting."

"Really? Wow."

"Yep. The _Enterprise_. Best of the best, you know."

"No way."

"What, I'm not good enough?"

"No, it's not that. It's just - I'm on the _Enterprise_ too. Chief of Security."

Tasha wasn't prepared for the frequency of Deanna's shriek. "It's exactly like we wanted!"

Tasha nodded enthusiastically. "Do you know who else is serving with us?"

"Only two. Our doctor is a Beverly Crusher - I don't know her but Captain Picard does. And the first officer is one William Riker."

"And you do know him."

"You could say that."

"Okay, spill it."

"I met him on Betazed. We were - we were lovers. No, we were more than lovers. We were _Imzadi_."

"You were what?"

"Loosely translated, it means 'beloved'. But to Betazoids, it means something more. It means the first. The first person to really, completely, totally capture your heart."

"Awww, how sweet. Is that how you got the _Enterprise_?"

"No, Captain Picard picked me before he picked Will. We're not seeing each other anymore."

"What happened?"

"After he left Betazed, we were supposed to meet on Risa. Then he got a promotion and decided his career came first."

"I'm sorry."

"Who knows. This might be my chance to get back what we had. What about you? Any romantic prospects?"

"Well, um, yes and no. Deanna, tell me something. How did you know you and Tom weren't meant to be?"

"We just didn't have that connection anymore. We liked each other, but the love was gone. Why are you asking this?"

"There's someone - I've been with him for almost four years. But lately, I've just felt like, like something's missing. I loved him so much in the beginning, and now I just don't know."

"Oh, Tasha. Sometimes you have to stop trying to save something that's better let go."

"I just don't know how to handle it. I still care about him and I don't want to hurt him."

"What would hurt him more, Tasha? Telling him straight, or leading him along?"

"You're absolutely right."

xxxxxxxxx

"Geordi, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About us. Geordi, be honest with me. Do you still feel the way you did four years ago?"

After a long pause, he shook his head. "I like you, Tasha, I care about you. Maybe I even still love you. But I don't feel what we had, I didn't really feel it even before I left. That's the real reason I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to lose what we had."

"It's gone, Geordi, and we can't bring it back. I care about you, I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to keep stringing you along, pretending we can have what we can't." Deanna hadn't told her how painful even a mutual consent breakup could be.

"I appreciate that." His voice was choked. "Tasha, promise me something. Promise me we'll stay friends."

"Always." She pressed her hand to the comm panel, and he brought his hand up as if to meet it.

"Goodbye, Tasha."

"Goodbye."

xxxxxxxxx

At first, Tasha thought she was imaging things. But there was no mistaking the man's silhouette, not with that skin color.

"Data!"

He turned to see her and got just a hint of a smile on his face. "Tasha. You are, I see, a lieutenant now."

"Yes. And I see you're a lieutenant commander. Where have you been these last few years?"

"On Starbase 20, and then aboard the _Trieste._"

"You left without saying goodbye."

"I was not able to. I was transferred on very short notice and you were not on the Academy grounds. You had never given me an alternative method to contact you."

"It's okay, I forgive you."

"Your hair is different."

"What? Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Some of it got burned in an accident."

"It is quite attractive on you."

Tasha blushed. "Thank you." His glances seemed almost charged, and they stirred something she hadn't felt even at the peak of her relationship with Geordi, and it made her uncomfortable.

"Look, I - I have to be somewhere now. I'll see you later."

"You will see me many times later." Again the hint of a smile. "We have been assigned to the same vessel."

And Tasha wasn't sure whether to be elated or dismayed.

xxxxxxxxx

"If I'd known we'd end up on the same ship, I'd have waited to talk to you in person."

Geordi nodded. "I didn't want to tell you I got the _Enterprise_ because I didn't want you to feel bad."

"And I didn't want to tell you for the same reason."

"I miss you, you know."

"And I miss you too. But it never would have worked."

"Yeah." He hugged her tightly. "I try to tell myself that."

"Me too. Maybe someday we'll believe it."

xxxxxxxxx

"Come in," Tasha said softly when her door chime rang. Geordi stepped through her door.

"I, uh, I wanted to say I'm sorry. For, you know -"

"I know. And it's okay."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Okay."

"I'm fine. Just a little mixed up right now." She was only weeks out of her relationship with one man, a man she'd thought she loved, and when her guard was down, instead of going to him as he had to her, she'd thrown herself at another man, someone who she'd only ever seen as a friend. And not just that, someone who had no feelings, someone she'd used in a way. Mixed up was a mild word for it.

"Can I help?"

And that only made her feel worse. "Thanks. But this is something I have to sort out on my own."

And sort it out she did, with only three words. "It never happened."

**I know I covered a lot of ground in this chapter, but there wasn't really much else in between to fill in. All of this is based heavily on **_**The Buried Age**_**, except for the last bit which is based on **_**The Naked Now. **_**I tried****to make it readable even if you haven't read the aforementioned novel.**_**  
**_

**Many of you are reading **_**Big Doors**_** anyway, but for anyone who isn't, this is the last canon chapter. It's AU from here on out. At some point in the distant future, I might write a canon alternate sequel/epilogue, but if I do it won't be for awhile. Also, if you haven't read _Big Doors_, you should if you intend to continue reading this one. What's left of this is about a half-dozen chapters scattered over the run of the show and it may not make much sense without the _Big Doors_ background.  
**

**Please review. Considering how recently I posted the last chapter, I won't say anything about the lack of reviews - this time ;).  
**


	25. Chapter TwentyFive: PostWolf 359

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Five: Post-Wolf 359**_

USS _Agamemnon_

USS _Antares_

USS_ Archer_

USS _Bradbury_

USS _Challenger_

There. Her heart leaped into her throat as she found the thing she'd been dreading; the name of a ship carrying a friend.

USS _Copernicus_

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She reminded herself that much of the _Saratoga_'s crew had escaped unharmed. Maybe, just maybe, he'd made it off too?

She glanced down at the PADD again, and then anger overcame her and she hurled it at the wall. It hit with a satisfying slam.

"Is there a problem?"

She loved her foster family, but this was one of these times she really wished Vulcan hearing wasn't what it was.

"Uh, no, not really."

"I heard a collision."

"I, uh, threw the PADD at the wall. Come in, I don't like talking to you from behind a door."

The door opened and Tuvok stepped in. "Was there a reason you engaged in this activity?"

"I was frustrated with something I read."

He said nothing, just stood there waiting for her to elaborate.

"The name of the ship a close friend serves on. His name isn't on the casualty list, but you know as well as I do that it's still being updated."

"We also share the knowledge that there are survivors from many of the vessels. You cannot assume the worst until you know for certain."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she admitted softly. "I was so excited, you know, when the Borg cube was destroyed."

"As a person with emotions, you were entitled to that excitement."

"But how could I have forgotten about everything that had been lost in the fight? All those people, some of them civilians. And I just forgot about them because I was so glad it was all over and that we'd beaten the Borg."

"That sentiment is understandable."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?"

"Merely pointing out that your reactions had logical cause. There is something else bothering you, is there not?"

"The day before yesterday, I visited the center where I lived when I met you."

"And there is a problem with the shelter."

"Oh, no, sir. There isn't one problem. There are dozens of them."

"Naturally, this would agitate you, to see troubles at a place that had sheltered and cared for you."

"What?" She realized what he was saying and almost laughed at the incredulity of it. "Oh, these problems aren't new. They've been there all along."

"But you never noticed them."

"No, I noticed. I - I'm not sure how to explain this."

"Perhaps it would be best if you just say what is on your mind."

"I hated every second I spent inside that center. It wasn't like a home, it was more like a prison."

"Exaggeration will not accomplish effective conversation."

"Who says I'm exaggerating?"

"I doubt the center was truly similar to a prison."

She resisted the urge to argue on principle, and instead decided to counter him in the only way one could argue against a Vulcan - with fact. "The counselors they employed were incompetent and seemed more interested in stroking their own egos than actually helping the people they were counseling. I was blamed for everything that happened to me while I was on Turkana; the rape, my sister abandoning me, all of it. My drug use, which I've told you was an act of desperation, was treated as some sort of willful rebellion and used as proof that I had no character. We weren't allowed private contact with anyone; all communication with anyone from the outside, and there wasn't much of it, was monitored. There were a total of forty-seven rules, all of which had to be memorized and recited on command, and many of which were either overly restrictive or extremely subjective and open to interpretation. Breaking - or even being perceived to have broken - any one of those rules required a rote apology and often resulted in what was officially called a 'discipline sanction', which would last for a designated number of days. While on discipline sanction, I was forced to write lines daily and refused contact with anyone. I also wasn't allowed to eat real food, only these nutritional drinks that didn't even dull hunger, and -" she broke off and drew a deep breath before telling him what she hadn't told anyone, "when I was first sentenced, or if I committed another offense while on the sanction and it was extended, I was beaten."

"Beaten?"

"With a leather belt."

He sat next to her, and his face was even more serious than usual. "So what you are telling me is that while you were in the custody of the center, you suffered both physical and emotional abuse, as well as deprivation of food?"

She nodded silently. "I'd tried to put it behind me, but being back there - it brought it all back."

"On one occasion while you were in the testing process, you collapsed from low blood sugar. Was that caused by these 'discipline sanctions'?"

"The first time we met, I wasn't supposed to be there. I sneaked away from the center because I needed a way into Starfleet, and I knew they wouldn't let me go. I was put on discipline for three months for that and a few other things I did at the same time."

"You were denied food for three months?"

She nodded. "I would have been, anyway. I moved in here before the sentence was complete."

"Those drinks are meant only for short-term emergency use or as a supplement to an insufficient diet. It is extremely inadvisable and even somewhat dangerous to survive on them alone for long periods of time, especially if they are consumed only on alternating days. When you collapsed, it had been four weeks since our first meeting. Therefore, I assume you had not eaten in four weeks?"

"The last meal I'd had was the meal I ate with you, and as soon as I got back to the center, they forced me to throw that up - I was on discipline already then, I hadn't eaten for a few days before that."

"And yet, I doubt we were being monitored at the point at which you collapsed. I asked you about the cause, and you were evasive."

"I didn't know you very well then. I was worried that if you knew I was in trouble, you'd reject me."

"I would not have."

"I know that now. I didn't then. I'm sorry I lied."

"Your lack of truthfulness is not what concerns me. If you had told me at the time, I would have reported it and it could have been stopped. Since you have been away from the center for thirteen years, I do not believe a report at this date would accomplish much, as there would be no evidence."

"I'm looking into it, and so is a friend of mine, trying to find something concrete. I want it closed. I don't want anyone else to go through what I did."

"That is admirable."

"If I do gather evidence to file a claim, will you help me then?"

"I would be displeased if, at that time, you did not ask for my assistance."

"Thank you. This means a lot to me." She sat up. "Do you hear a door?"

"Yes," he said, suddenly puzzled. T'Pel had called him only two days ago with the news that she intended to turn their emergency evacuation to Vulcan into a permanent move, feeling that after the near-disaster, she no longer wanted to remain in a place that was considered the heart of the Federation, since other enemies might attack for exactly that reason. Tasha knew that, despite his stoicism, despite the fact that he understood the logic of the situation, this hurt him deeply. He didn't like the idea of living in a different place than his entire family, but moving to Vulcan was out of the question. However, his family's absence did raise one question; why was the door opening?

"Does anyone in the area know your lock code?"

"Only you and I." He stood slowly, and she stood with him. But what they found at the bottom of the stairs wasn't exactly what they were expecting.

"It is generally polite to send a message to someone before entering their home unanticipated."

"I did attempt to do so." The sixteen-year-old placed her bag on the floor. "But it was impossible to get a signal through with all the comm traffic."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I want to be." Asil walked towards her father. "I do not belong on Vulcan. I am not like the people there. There is nothing there for me."

"And here? What is there for you here?"

"I have been considering for some time the possibility of joining Starfleet. Now, with the recent tragedy, it seems more logical than ever. Many personnel have been lost, and they will need people to begin to refit their ranks. I believe that I am capable." She paused. "If you do not wish for me to stay here, I will return to Vulcan until such time, if it comes, as I am accepted into the Academy."

"That would be illogical. I know far more about Starfleet Academy entrance requirements than anyone on Vulcan does."

"Then I may stay?"

"You may indeed. But do not leave your things on the floor."

Tasha couldn't help smiling as her sister picked up the bad she'd dropped on the floor. Tuvok left the room to attend to - something - and she hugged the younger girl tightly.

"Are you all right?" Asil asked, puzzled by her strange behavior.

It wasn't until Tasha heard her voice that she realized Asil's mouth was now above her shoulder. She was no longer a baby. "I'm okay," she assured her. "It's been an emotional few weeks is all. There were times I didn't think I'd see you or your father or my friends again."

"You serve on the _Enterprise,_ correct?"

"Yes."

"You were in grave danger. I have observed that at such moments, humans have a tendency to consider the people to whom they are closest, often accompanied by feelings of regret that they will not have a chance to see those people again. I am certain everyone aboard your ship felt the same way. At least, everyone who was not Vulcan."

"Yeah, except Data."

"Data - Data. Lieutenant Commander Data. The only sentient android in Starfleet. He does not experience emotion?"

"Not as humans think of it, anyway. I don't know where I would have been without him during those days."

"You would not have been on the _Enterprise_ without the Commander's presence?"

"No - I mean in an emotional sense. He was there for me when we lost the Captain, through all my grief and guilt. He forced me to eat and sleep when I was determined to run on adrenaline alone."

"So what you mean is that you do not know what would have happened to you or how you would have functioned without him."

"Exactly. Though if he hadn't been there, I have no doubt someone else would have been forcing food into me."

"You have faith in your comrades."

"Absolute, total faith. Why else would I have gone along with Will Riker's insane suggestion?"

"It was his idea to recapture the former Captain Picard."

"Current Captain Picard," she corrected a little sharply.

"But at the time, he was the former Captain Picard."

"That's true," she conceded. "Anyway, yes, it was Will's idea, and it was crazy. But it worked."

"That I surmised."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha looked around, a little self-consciously. Data had relayed to her an anonymous comm message containing only one sentence.

_Tasha - Meet me at Starfleet Academy outside the main cafeteria at 1400._

Data had offered to trace the comm signal, but she'd declined. It was his break as well, and she wanted him to relax. Starfleet Academy was teeming with people. Nothing could possibly happen there. Nothing except looking silly, waiting for someone who never came.

Then she saw him. Tall, pale-haired, blue eyed. She recognized him instantly and tried to call out, but her tongue was frozen in her mouth. It didn't seem to matter. He noticed her.

"Tasha." He grabbed her around the shoulders and hugged her tightly.

"Tom," she whispered back. "I thought you were dead. I heard about the _Copernicus_."

"I got out in a shuttle." His voice was thick. "Only about fifty. Once the bridge blew up, I went to help evacuate the civilians. We launched five shuttles and eleven escape pods before the ship blew, but -" he broke off.

"But what?" she asked comfortingly.

"My group was the only one that made it. One shuttle, three pods. I managed to hide us in the wreck of a destroyed ship. The other groups weren't so lucky. I should have done something, anything, for them, but there were only three officers altogether, and I couldn't risk civilian lives."

"You did the right thing."

"Starfleet agreed with you," he said bitterly. "That's how I got this." He pointed to his collar, and Tasha noticed the second gold pip. "A commendation, too. But I don't deserve it."

"You couldn't have saved everyone." She hugged him again. "If you'd rushed out there, you'd only have gotten yourself and fifty people killed."

"That's what I keep telling myself. But I heard the comm calls, Tasha. I heard the pilots begging for help. I heard the children crying, Tasha. The children on those shuttles. The children I failed." He was nearly crying now. "I failed them, Tasha. I let them die. I let those babies die." And then he could no longer hold back his tears, and he was sobbing into her shoulder. "I hear their screams every night, every time I close my eyes."

"Shh, just let it out." She pulled him close, cradling him like the older sister she often felt like. "Just cry, it's okay."

He wept into her shirt, grieving for all the lives he hadn't been able to save. Soon enough, his tears slowed and he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Sorry for crying all over you like that."

"Uh-uh. I owe you for letting me sob all over you on the hill that time."

He nodded, acknowledging this. "Hey, I'm headed for home now. You want to come with?"

"I shouldn't."

"Tasha, my mom loves you. She'll fuss over you just like she will over me. And my dad likes you too. Come on."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha had never actually been to the Paris' main house before, but she doubted it was usually this full. Tom's parents, Moira, a pregnant Kathleen, Bryan, and their two children, many of the family members she remembered from Christmas and a few she didn't. Most striking was an older woman sitting alone. She hadn't joined in the hugging and cheering.

"Aunt Tali," Tom explained once he had a second to breathe. "Great-aunt Natalia, actually, but we call her Aunt Tali. She's always been a little strange. Just ignore her."

But that wasn't to be. The woman sought her out.

"You look like my daughter," she said shakily.

"Ma'am?"

"You look like my daughter," she repeated. "You look like my daughter! No one should look like her! What right do you have to come in here looking like her, to stand there, like her and not like her. _What right do you have to look like her_?" She fell to her knees, shaking. Tasha turned to call for help, only to see that Owen was already rushing over. The woman was taken into a separate room and a doctor was called. The gathering broke up quickly, and soon only Tom, his parents, his sisters, and Tasha were sitting in the room.

"Why was she so upset about me looking like her daughter?" Tasha asked tentatively.

"That's a very long story. But I suppose you have the right to hear it. Aunt Tali and her husband, my uncle Eugene," here he glanced over at Tom, who bore his uncle's name as a middle name, "wanted a large family, but they were only ever able to have one child."

"Her daughter."

"Exactly. My cousin Eva." Tom saw Tasha flinch a little at the name, but if anyone else noticed, they said nothing. "She was my favorite cousin growing up. She was five years younger than I was, but it never kept her from wanting to do everything I did. Even as we grew up, we remained close, more like siblings than cousins. Starting when I was twenty-five and she was twenty, she started trying to set me up with her friends." He smiled at Julia and took her hand. "She did a pretty good job of it too, if I do say so myself."

"Eva was one of my dearest friends," Julia added, "and we just got closer after Owen and I married. Then about three years later, she came around announcing she was dating this man, Matthew, a man of some power in a Federation colony. And she was totally head-over-heels for him. But Tali wouldn't let Eva marry him because she didn't want her to move so far away. So they eloped. Owen performed the ceremony, and Matthew's brother and I were witnesses. She wrote to her mother from their transport, telling her what she'd done."

"Eva wrote us and her mother for years," Owen continued, "telling us everything that was happening, and we wrote back. Eight years into her marriage, she wrote and told us she was pregnant. We were ecstatic for her. She had a baby girl about ten months before Tom was born. She and Julia wrote each other almost daily for those first few years. Then she wrote this one letter, and it was different. She was scared. She said something was wrong, people were being shot in the streets. We tried to get her to leave, but she wasn't leaving her husband or sending her daughter away from her. She became pregnant again, and this time her letter was combined joy and fear. She asked if she was wrong in bringing a child into such a place. Six months in, she wrote us, desperate, saying she'd finally seen enough and begging us to send a ship for her. The evacuation vessels couldn't land safely anymore, and people who tried to congregate for transport were shot and bombed. I told her I'd see what I could do, but no matter who I talked to, I couldn't get a ship willing to go near that place. The whole colony essentially imploded after that. All hell broke loose, communications went down, and the whole planet was cut off from the rest of the galaxy. Tali was never the same after Eva disappeared."

As he finished the story, he gripped his wife's hand tighter. She had tears running down her face, and Kathleen and Moira were in a stunned silence after hearing, for the first time, the history of their lost relative. Tom, on the other hand, was less concerned with the story itself than he was with its effect on Tasha, who looked like she might burst into tears. But before anyone could say anything, the doctor came in.

"She's resting comfortably," he reported. "But Admiral Paris, as her closest living relative, I need you to sign -"

"Excuse me, doctor," Tasha interrupted softly, "but if I'm right, Admiral Paris is not Natalia Paris' closest relative."

"Oh, really? Then who is?"

She bit her lip and drew a deep breath. "Me. I am."

**Most of this came to me when I was half-asleep, which is when my most out-there ideas tend to take shape. I'd been intending to give Tasha some kind of family history eventually, and this just sort of occurred to me.**

**Please review. Even just a sentence or two, so I know you're still reading and still engaged.**


	26. Chapter TwentySix: PostWolf 359 Part II

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_****__**Chapter Twenty-Six: Post-Wolf 359 Part II**_

"_What_?"

That came from Moira. The entire room's attention was focused on Tasha now. Only Tom had gotten beyond shock and was now running over Eva's story in his head, clearly finding the places where Tasha's story lined up with Eva's daughter - starting with the name connection no one else would have been aware of.

"Doctor, could you excuse us for a moment?" Owen asked. Then he turned to Tasha. "I hope you're prepared to explain that."

"I am. I'm not completely positive that it's so, but there are a lot of coincidences."

"Such as?" Kathleen asked.

"My mother's name was Eva, and my father's was Matthew. He was involved in the government of the colony we lived on. I'm ten months older than Tom. When I was four, while my mother was pregnant, the colony we lived in collapsed on itself, and no one could enter or leave."

"You were born on the colony on Turkana?" Julia asked softly. She usually avoided saying the name of the cursed planet.

Tasha nodded quietly.

"Tali said you looked like Eva," Julia continued. "If you are Eva's daughter, that would explain it. Tasha - is that short for Natasha?"

"Yes. That was her name, wasn't it? Eva's daughter?"

Julia nodded, blinking back tears. "The chances of all this being a coincidence have to be a million to one."

"The doctor can confirm it," Owen said, still sounding shocked. "Why don't I call him back in here?"

xxxxxxxxx

An hour later it was confirmed. Tasha was indeed the daughter of Eva Paris, Owen's cousin.

"Can you -" Julia's voice was choked. "What happened to her?"

"I was five when she died. She and my dad were shot down in the street."

"Oh, you poor child." Julia hugged her tightly. "What about the baby?"

"My sister Ishara. She joined up with one of the power groups on the planet and refused to leave when given the chance."

"But you left." Kathleen's tone was a little sharp.

"Those groups were responsible for my parents' deaths. And not being affiliated with them meant a life of hardship. I saw my chance for something better and I took it. I tried to bring her, I really did."

"It's okay." Tom gently squeezed her shoulder. "I know you did." He shot a look in his sister's direction.

"Can I see her?" Tasha asked softly.

"Who?"

"My grandmother."

"I'll go talk to her first," Owen offered, "prepare her for the surprise."

Two minutes later he brought Tasha to the old woman's room. She walked in slowly and drew a deep breath. "Ma'am?"

"So it's true? You are Eva's daughter?"

She nodded mutely.

"Come here. Let me look at you." She examined Tasha for a long moment. "You really do look like her."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, no. As her daughter, _you_ have every right to look like her."

Tasha couldn't help smiling.

"She really is -"

"I'm sorry."

"Come here." She reached out her hand, and Tasha placed hers in it.

"You are her legacy, Natasha. As long as you're alive, she's alive too. In you, and in your children. Your duty to your mother is to keep that line alive."

"I can't," she blurted out instinctively.

"You can't?"

"I can't have children. Doctors say I never will."

"Of course you can. It's not about your body bearing children, it's about your heart loving them. You can do that, can't you?"

"Are you saying I should adopt?"

"Blood isn't as important as love. If you call them your children, they're your children. It's that simple."

"I've always thought so. But a lot of people don't agree with me." Of course, the fact of exactly _who_ she called her child had probably led people who would normally support adoption to make an exception.

"But I do, Natasha. Come here."

She hugged Tasha tightly. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

xxxxxxxxx

"What's this?" Tasha asked as Julia handed her a large box.

"I kept everything Eva sent me - all the letters and pictures and everything else - in a similar box. After we learned that you were her daughter, I made copies of all of it. It will give you a chance to get to know her."

"Thank you."

Everything was organized perfectly, with her letters in chronological order. Tasha carefully withdrew the first one as if it might shatter.

_Dear Julia_

_Mother was livid. I got her letter this morning, and I could almost hear her shouting right off the screen. Well, I wouldn't have done it if she'd been willing to let me get married in the first place! Oh, well. She'll get over it._

_You'll have to come visit sometime. It's like paradise. It's perfectly warm all year round and we're only a quarter mile from the beach. Between that and Matt, I think I've died and gone to heaven. I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up and discover this was all a dream._

_There are lots of families with kids here. It would be the perfect place to have a family. Not yet though! I'm not quite ready for that yet! There's way too much fun to be had here by a childless couple. It's like a permanent honeymoon._

_Matt and I are working on picking out a home. So far, we haven't found anything and we're getting sick of the apartment. I'll write again as soon as we find a place._

_Love,  
Eva_

Tasha blinked back tears. She had vague memories of the paradise before it had turned into a hell. Her mother could have had no idea what her heaven would become.

She skimmed through quite a few letters, detailing their home and daily happenings, congratulating Julia on the birth of Kathleen and Moira. Then the letter telling Julia she was pregnant, and another one, seven months later, including a fancy document.

_Matthew Yar and Eva Paris Yar  
Are proud to announce the birth of their daughter  
__**Natasha Mariah Yar  
**__On the date of June 29th, 2337_

More tears sprang to her eyes. It had never really occurred to her how much her parents had loved her.

The next dozen or so letters were full of baby anecdotes. Several of them mentioned letters Julia had written. It almost looked like she and Julia were in a friendly competition over whose baby could have the craziest moment. Then there was an abrupt change of tone.

_Dear Julia_

_I'm scared. Don't tell Mom, I don't want her to worry, but I was on the beach with my family today and someone was shot. I knew there was unrest but I didn't know how bad. Now I'm worried. Not really about me so much, but about her. I don't want anything to happen to her, but Matthew won't leave, he says it's not that bad, and I'm not breaking up my family over one incident, however terrifying._

The rest of the letter continued with forced lightheartedness, telling Julia more of the things that had happened with Tasha. The next few letters were mostly the same, a mix of joy and fear. Then another memorable paragraph caught her eye.

_Dear Julia_

_I have something to tell you. I'm pregnant again. Yes, really. I'm not as excited this time, though. I'm scared. Do I have the right to bring a child into a world like this? I'm already worried about raising Natasha in this place if it doesn't shape up. Matt says I worry too much._

She barely skimmed the rest of that one. There was only one left after this one, and she knew what it would say. This one even skipped the greeting, and it was short, just a few sentences.

_Julia, I've had enough. People are getting shot just walking down the street. I want to get out of here. I can't raise my kids in a place like this. Even Matthew agrees with me. But all the evacuations have stopped. Julia, talk to Owen, please, get a ship out here to get me. I'm scared for my babies. Please, Julia. Help me._

Tasha knew that had been her mother's last letter. Tears she could no longer control streamed down her face. She jumped at the sound of a footstep.

"You've been up here for five hours." Tom's voice rang through the space. "Mom thought you might be hungry." He got a closer look at her. "Hey, you okay?" He carefully took the letter from her hand and glanced over it. "Her last?"

Tasha nodded and found herself in a painfully tight hug. "Did you know about her before today?" she asked.

"Not in so much detail, no. My mom told me when I was really little, so the whole thing was edited for a five-year-old's level of understanding and attention span. And then I never asked when I was older, because I felt like I knew-"

"So you never got the detailed version."

"Right. I probably would have been able to put two and two together eventually if I had, maybe not as fast as you did, but eventually."

"So what does this make us?" she asked softly.

"I didn't think of that. We're cousins now, aren't we?"

"It's not like anything will really change."

"No, I suppose you're right. But it means a lot to me. It means I have a family now."

And two and a half months later, as she wept over the body of her last Turkana relative, it meant even more to her.

**Wasn't quite sure how to conclude this one. I hope this worked. I love that I surprised everyone last chapter. Good to know I'm still unpredictable.**

**I gave Tasha my best friend's name as a middle name and my own birthday.  
**

**Please review. I know I have way more than four readers, but I never seem to get more than four reviews!**


	27. Chapter TwentySeven: The Vulcan Way

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Vulcan Way**_

"You have a subspace communication," Data informed Tasha.

"Huh? Who's calling at this hour?"

"It is from Earth. Beyond that, I am uncertain."

"Never mind, I'll take it." Tasha pressed the button on the comm systems. "Asil! What are you doing calling this late?"

"I am sorry if I disturbed you. But you specifically asked to be informed the minute I received word from the Academy."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You know 'and what'! What did they say?"

"I am accepted."

"Asil, that's - congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Not that I had any doubt. Someone with your talents is something Starfleet should be begging to get their hands on." As Asil had grown older, Tasha had become aware that, on top of what seemed to be a general aptitude for everything, she had a unique talent for problem-solving. No matter which track she decided on, that would be a major asset.

"Exaggeration is not necessary."

"Who says I'm exaggerating? Starfleet needs people like you, especially now."

"I fail to see how the current time is relevant."

"The skills you have innately can be learned, but it takes years to do so. The people most likely to know them are people with long histories - Admirals, longtime captains and senior officers with a lot of experience under their belts." Fortunately, she'd used that particular idiom enough that Asil didn't question it. "Quite a few such people were killed in the battle with the Borg, and many others decided after that incident that they'd have enough - the retirement rate has to be some sort of record."

"It is not logical for so many to retire now, when the fleet's numbers are already depleted so severely."

"No, it's not. But a lot of them feel that this isn't what they signed on for. Starfleet's supposed to be about exploration. Even at the height of the Cardassian and Klingon wars, we've never had something like this happen. Over ten thousand people wiped out in a matter of hours. It's not something anyone expected. But as to the relevance, they need people with those skills since they've lost so many, but maybe one recruit in a hundred comes in with those skills."

"Then I will try to put my skills to the best use I can."

"I'm sure you will. Yar out."

xxxxxxxxx

The Vulcan Tasha was facing now was not, however, a member of the family she considered her own. He was aged, even for a Vulcan, and it showed in his face. She had noted, however, a few things most people would have missed - unless, of course, they'd lived in a house with Vulcans for a period of time. The slightest hint of a laugh when Picard had mentioned "cowboy diplomacy", a flash of pain when he'd discovered that his father was dead, and now a heaviness that seemed to hang over him.

She realized that, however unwittingly, her Captain had chosen a perfect away team for this mission. There was no human knew who more about Vulcans than Tasha, unless it was Jean-Luc Picard. And right now, that meant she had to go talk to this particular Vulcan. Even if he was giving off an air that suggested he'd rather be left alone.

"Ambassador Spock?"

"I didn't get your name."

"Tasha. Tasha Yar. I came over to see if you were all right."

"Why would I not be?"

"You were just told your father is dead. That can't be easy."

"He was old and had been ill for some time. It would be illogical to be surprised."

"That doesn't mean it can't hurt."

"I am Vulcan," he said almost defensively.

"I know. And if you were talking to just about anyone else, they'd take that to preclude what I just said. But you're not. You're talking to me."

"And you do not believe my statement precludes yours."

"No. I know better."

He said nothing, only gave her a raised eyebrow as a sign to continue.

"My father died when I was five. The closest thing I ever had was a Starfleet academy instructor who fostered me. He was Vulcan, and in the time I spent around him and his family, I learned a lot about your people."

"Such as?"

"That even if you keep a tight rein on emotions, it doesn't mean you feel nothing. The relationships between parents and children are similar to those in other races. And my mentor took care of me a few times when I needed someone - even if I never would have admitted it. And because of that, because of him, I know that it can't be easy for you to lose your father."

He gave her a softer look. "While I do not feel grief - I would be lying to say his death does not affect me."

"I didn't come over here looking for a confession. I wanted to offer my support."

"Thank you. I do not require it, but the offer is appreciated."

"Then allow me to offer this: _t__ushah nash-veh k'odu._"

He was momentarily taken aback. It wasn't the phrase itself - which translated to _I grieve with thee_ - so much as how she said it. That was not the universal translator. She'd actually spoken the phrase in Vulcan, with almost no accent, and she'd used the proper form of a statement with four different versions for different situations. She had indeed learned much from her foster family.

"Thank you," he said finally, aware of the unusually long pause between her statement and his response. If she noticed, she didn't comment on it.

xxxxxxxxx

"It appears I am not the only one with an unusual family situation."

Was Spock teasing her? With his stoicism, it was impossible to tell. She hoped he wasn't. Being captured by her alternate-reality daughter was off-putting enough without a Vulcan teasing her added to the mix.

"Data's encouraged me to think of her as if her mother was a clone of me, instead of me. It's the only thing that allows me to process this at all."

"If I may ask, process what, exactly?"

"Well - our _Enterprise_, much like its predecessor, has a unique knack for finding itself in odd situations. This particular one involves a sort of time paradox, an intersection of timelines."

Spock said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow. Tasha recognized that as a sign to elaborate.

"About two years ago, we encountered an anomaly in space. It appeared to be nothing, but for the briefest fraction of a second I thought I saw a ship - no one else saw it, I put it down to some sort of optical illusion. Then a few months ago, I spoke to Admiral Castillo, formerly of the _Enterprise_ C. It turns out we did come into contact with a ship. His ship, transported into the future."

"If you only saw him for a moment, how was he aware that it was your ship he had encountered?"

"We only saw him for a fraction of a second. But he saw us for far longer, or rather, an alternate us. Their being pulled into the future had altered the last twenty-two years of history, though no one knew it at the time, except one person who had a feeling something was off. Eventually, they realized that if they went back to their own time they could change history for the better and in all likelihood restore what was supposed to be. But this same person who'd suspected something was wrong also said that in our proper timeline, I was dead. So my counterpart decided to join the _Enterprise_ C's crew and make her death count for something."

"Since Commander Sela is here, I assume that your plan did not work as expected."

"You could say that. Instead of being killed, my counterpart was captured, taken as a consort to a Romulan general in return for the freedom of the rest of the crew. That's where Sela came from."

"I see. " He paused. "Commander, perhaps you should -"

"Perhaps I should do exactly what I'd do under any other circumstances! Ambassador, whatever my relationship to Sela is, it's of no importance. I'm a Starfleet officer first and foremost, and I intend to handle this like a Starfleet officer. I promise you, when the time comes, I won't hesitate."

He looked into her eyes a long moment before speaking. "Commander, of that I have no doubt."

xxxxxxxxx

"Commander, a word before you leave?"

"What is it, Ambassador?"

"I believe you should know that my father held great respect for you."

"How would you know that?"

"Your captain offered to mind-meld with me, to share the knowledge I was not able to recieve directly from my father. He believed you were remarkably calm and logical for a human, especially a human who was at the time less than thirty years old. And after the way you handled today's situation, I am forced to agree. As you promised, you did not hesitate, even in combat against a member of your own blood. Perhaps you, as a human raised by Vulcans, have found what has always eluded me."

"And what's that?"

"Balance, Commander. The best of both worlds." He raised a hand, spreading his fingers. "Live long and prosper."

She raised her own hand in the same salute. "Peace and long life."

**Sorry this took so long. It was a hard chapter to get right.**

**Please review.**


	28. Chapter TwentyEight: 2369

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Eight: 2369**_

"Tasha?" Will's voice was unusually soft, and she knew he was trying to be sensitive to her. Her recent ordeal with the Cardassians had left her unusually on edge.

"Yeah, what is it?" She could tell from his face it wasn't going to be good.

"When you and the Captain were first captured, we assumed you'd been killed. So we, we, uh..."

"You what, Will?"

"We notified the people on your lists."

"Oh, God," she groaned. "So what you're saying is I now need to call everyone and set the record straight."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Okay, fine. Now just let me get my list, I've changed it so many times I can't remember who's on it this time around."

The first name on the list was Natalia Paris, and Tasha enlisted Will's help for this one. The man got on the comm first and explained that there had been a mistake, in order to avoid shocking the woman with the image of her presumably dead granddaughter. Then Tasha spoke briefly to her, assuring her she was okay, skimming over the worst of what had happened.

"Do you need my help with any of the others?"

She glanced down the list, which besides Data contained only three other names. "No, I can handle these. Thanks, Will."

He left, and she sent another communication, this one to Starfleet Academy.

"Hello...yes, I'd like to speak to someone...Asil...no rank, she's a cadet...second year...she doesn't have one...no, it's not just a personal call...well, yes, but it's extremely important...I'd much rather do this now...I could make it an order, Lieutenant! Who's your commanding officer? Yes, I'd like to speak with her! Commander? Yes, I know you're probably busy...Yes, I'm sorry...Look, I need to speak with Cadet Asil...both...yes, it's important...well, she was recently the recipient of some bad news, turns out it was inaccurate...that's a long story, and you said yourself you're busy...you will? Thank you."

Asil caught one glimpse of the figure on the screen and looked as surprised as she ever had. "Tasha? How is this possible?"

"I was - separated from my away team during a mission. No one could get a hold of me, so they assumed I was dead. A simple mistake."

"Are you all right?"

"According to my doctor." There was no way in the galaxy Tasha would tell the younger girl what had happened to her between her separation from the away team and her rescue five days later. "But enough about me. Tell me about you."

Asil obliged readily, and Tasha was glad to have the attention off herself. It gave her a chance to figure out what she was going to say to the other two people on her list, neither of whom would be as easily placated as the first two.

When Asil reluctantly hung up, Tasha put through a call to Jupiter Station. Tuvok displayed a more subdued version of his daughter's reaction, but much as Tasha had expected, after the initial questions about how the mistake had been made, he wasn't satisfied by her assurances that her doctor had pronounced her fit.

"There is a difference between being physically fit and being well, Tasha. Are you well?"

"I -" she had never lied to him and wasn't going to start now, but she wasn't sure she wanted to tell him the truth and yes, worry him, though she knew he would say Vulcans didn't worry.

"I will be," she said finally. "It'll just take some time. And I have people here taking care of me."

He nodded slightly in understanding. "If you are in need of anything -"

"I know how to contact you. Thanks."

They talked for a few minutes more, and then Tasha turned to what would be her most difficult call of all. The bleariness of the voice that answered suggested she'd woken her friend from a sound sleep, but she didn't think he'd blame her once he heard what she was calling about.

"I was fast asleep. This better be - Tasha?" He squinted at the viewscreen. "I must still be dreaming."

"Nope. I'd pinch you but I don't think I can quite reach."

He shook his head dazedly. "How...?"

"I was separated from my away team, no one knew where I was."

"In Cardassian space."

"How did you -"

"I weaseled a few details out of Deanna - she offered to call me since she knew me. She couldn't tell me everything since she didn't _know_ everything, but she did say that the mission had been into Cardassian space. You were more than just separated - you were taken captive, weren't you?"

"Yes." She knew he'd see right through a lie.

"What happened?"

"What?"

"Tasha, you can't expect me to believe that you were held captive by the Cardassians and nothing happened. Ever heard of the Arias Expedition?"

"No," she replied, nonplussed at the apparently random comment.

"Remember how our third year my dad took some time off for a scientific mission?"

"Yes, now that you mention it. Wasn't it right after Kathleen had the baby?"

"Yeah. That was the Arias Expedition."

"And?" She still didn't see how it was relevant.

"It was supposed to be a study of some scientific phenomenon or other, but it was really a spy mission across the Cardassian border. My father and his science officer were taken captive, held for six hours before they were rescued. Dad never told me exactly what happened, but he was never the same. Tasha, it's been a week since I got the first call. How long were you held for?"

"Five days," she admitted quietly, knowing that the pain she felt talking about the experience showed clearly on her face. Tom would know something was wrong now.

He didn't disappoint. Much as Will had, he lowered his voice before he spoke again. "Tasha, are you okay? No, forget that. You're not okay. What is it?"

"I - I don't -"

"Come on. You can tell me. What did those awful creatures do to you?"

His soft words broke her resistance and she began to cry. She was aware of Tom reaching out for the comm screen, almost touching it, as if he could reach through it and take her in his arms.

"What is it?" His voice suggested he was close to crying himself.

Through her sobs, she told him everything. How they had taken her prisoner, using her Captain as a hostage to force her to submit. How the cruel Cardassian leader, Gul Dukat, had tried to get information out of her about her Captain's weaknesses. How she'd refused and he'd ordered her tortured and then - her voice cracked as she said this part - raped her. How he and his friends had used her body repeatedly over the subsequent five days. How they'd continued to torture her for information. How she'd been not only denied food and water, but tormented by being forced to watch them eat and drink. How - and this memory brought on a fresh flood of tears - one Gul had raped her in front of her Captain and forced him to watch. She wasn't the only one crying by the time she was finished talking.

"Bastards," Tom forced out through his teeth even as tears slid freely down his face. "How dare they? And all for their own entertainment?" He again reached out like he was trying to get to her. "Tasha, is there anyone there to take care of you?"

"Yeah - yeah, there is." It was an understatement; she had pretty much the whole senior staff keeping an eye on her.

"I'll see you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay."

"_The time is 1530 hours._"

Both Tasha and Tom jumped at the voice coming from his ship's computer.

"I go on duty at 1600," he began apologetically, but she interrupted.

"It's okay, I understand. Go get into uniform and whatever else it is you have to do."

"I will see you soon."

"I'll be counting on it." Tasha ended the link, knowing that if she left it up to Tom, he'd be saying goodbye until he was twenty minutes late for his shift. She sank back in her chair, exhausted by the emotional outpouring.

One thing was for sure, though. She wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see her. She just hoped they could arrange it.

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha!"

Before Tasha could respond, she found herself crushed in her best friend's arms. "Tasha, oh God, Tasha." He was clinging to her, saying her name over and over again as if the news he'd been told four months ago might turn out to be true after all and she might just disappear.

"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm okay."

"Are you?" He pulled her back slightly to look her over.

"Yes, Tom, I am. And we can talk more somewhere it isn't so crowded."

He nodded his agreement and they started off walking. "I want to thank you for coming, by the way," she said. "You may have saved my life."

"Oh?"

"Death by reception. Hutchinson's hosting."

"Death indeed." Tom laughed.

"So how did you get out here anyway? This can't have been on the _Exeter_'s route."

"It wasn't that far off-course, and I was due for some time off. So I took a shuttle. They'll be swinging by to pick me up in three days."

"Tom, are _you_ okay?" They had by now reached a more secluded part of the station. "I heard there was an accident."

"Shuttle crash. A pretty bad one, too." His face was heavy with grief. "There were four of us aboard - no one else survived."

"It's okay, Tom." She saw in his face traces of the same grief he'd been carrying after Wolf 359, and she reached a hand out to him, but he pulled away.

"It's not okay, Tasha! I killed those people. _I_ killed them!"

"Tom, we've been through this before. I'm sure you did everything you could -"

"No!" he snapped sharply. "That's just it! This isn't like Wolf 359. There I _did_ do everything I could, and I've come to accept it."

"And what could you have done here?" Tasha decided that working through this logically was the best way to handle it. She was unprepared for his response.

"I could have not caused the stupid accident in the first place!" At her stunned silence, he continued. "Yeah, you heard me right. _I_ caused that accident. It was my fault. Pilot error."

She finally gathered her thoughts enough to speak. "Tom, I know Starfleet. They would have investigated. Clearly, they decided it wasn't bad enough to warrant a serious punishment."

"That's because I didn't tell them!" He drew a deep breath, trying to calm down, reminding himself that it wasn't really Tasha he was angry with. "The others were dead on impact, I survived the crash because of all that stuff you taught me after our crash. This one was worse though, a lot worse. I crawled through a hatch and got clear just in time to see the shuttle turn into a fireball. There was no evidence left. I passed out and woke up in a sickbay with my dad sitting by my bed, and he asked what happened, and then I was feeding him this story about a malfunction. Like I said, there was no proof except my word. Then the investigators asked me, and I told them the same story, I'm not even sure why. I should have taken it back but I just couldn't - I don't know what else to say."

He was convinced she would yell, or at least express her disappointment. But she didn't. She laid her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. "What if I said you're not the only person I've ever known who's done that?"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. This happened just last year. And I'll bet you and Wesley weren't the only ones either."

"How do you figure that?"

"Because if that person chooses never to reveal the truth, no one will know they lied."

"Tasha, I don't know what to do!" His shoulders trembled with repressed sobs. "How can I come forward and say that everything I've said in the past two months is a lie. And how can I not? What can I do?"

"I can't tell you, Tom. Only you can make that choice."

"Tasha, if I decide not to come forward -"

"As far as I'm concerned, this conversation never happened. No, Tom, I'm not going to make it that easy. If you decide to tell the truth, it has to be because _you_ think it's the right thing to do. Not because someone left you with no choice."

"It doesn't matter. I already know what I have to do. As soon as I can get a ship back to Earth, I'm going to tell the investigation board what really happened." He sighed. "And I'm going to hate myself for it. But I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't. Scratch that, I _know_ I couldn't."

"For what it's worth, Tom, I think you're doing the right thing."

"It's worth a lot. Thanks."

"Now what do you say we get some lunch?"

"You serious?"

"Of course I am. You didn't think this was going to change anything between us, did you?" She grinned. "You're stuck with me."

He smiled then too. "I suppose I am."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha arrived back on the _Enterprise_ to find that quite a bit of chaos had taken place in her absence. Apparently, the staff members attending the reception Tasha had wiggled her way out of had been taken hostage and had to improvise a way out (which, with the help of Geordi's VISOR, they had). Meanwhile, the Captain had been stuck onboard the _Enterprise_ while it was under siege and being slowly overtaken by the baryon sweep and had escaped by, among other things, pretending to be the ship's barber.

Three weeks later she got the news. Tom had indeed confessed to his mistake and the subsequent lie, and had been forced to resign from Starfleet as a result. As if that weren't bad enough, Admiral Paris had made a show of disassociating himself from and essentially disowning his son. When Tasha had called the Paris home to ask, Julia had told her through tears that Tom hadn't been back and she didn't know where he was. She also told him that all of his so-called friends, even his lifelong friend Charlie Day, had turned their backs on him, and urged her to try to make contact with him.

Tasha eventually tracked him as far as a bar in Marseilles that he had frequented during their Academy days, but the bartender had told her that while he had spent an inordinate amount of time there for the first few weeks after his dismissal, he had been given an offer by a man with a tattoo. What had been offered? She didn't know. Who was that man? She didn't know that either. But he'd left with the man and hadn't been seen since. Tasha knew she'd have to wait for him to surface on his own.

Though what she would find out then, she could never expect.

**I made up my own version of the Caldik Prime incident since the generally accepted version (the Pathways version) doesn't work with my Tom, who is significantly older than the Pathways Tom. Hope it works. I also know it probably seems odd that I borrowed Charlie Day's character from Pathways only to not have him die in the accident as he did in the novel, but I needed him for the earlier chapter and I decided that his being in the right place to be in the accident would take a lot of coincidences, while his turning his back on Tom emphasizes how **_**everyone**_** really turned on him.**

**I tried to skim over Tasha's incident with the Cardassians since I know not everyone liked that part of **_**Big Doors**_**, but Tom's knowing will become extremely important. If you're a Voyager fan, you've already figured out why it's important, who the tattoo man is, where Tom went, and what Tasha will find out the next time he resurfaces. If not, you'll just have to wait and see.**

**Please review.**


	29. Chapter TwentyNine: Allies and Enemies

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Allies and Enemies**_

"They're in trouble," Lieutenant D'Sora reported, her eyes never leaving the sensor that was tracking the small Maquis ship. "Their engines are starting to malfunction."

The shuttle lurched, and the three-member shuttle crew was sent flailing. "So are ours!" Tasha yelled, scrambling back to her feet. "There must be some sort of interference. Probably some sort of plasma storm residue."

Ensign Loretta McIntyre, a recent addition to the _Enterprise _crew and Tasha's security team who had been selected for the mission because of her piloting skills, also climbed back into her chair and took back the helm. "What do we do now?"

"We need to find an M-Class planet to set down on." Tasha forced herself to stay calm. As the senior officer on the mission, she couldn't afford to panic.

"Scanning range is extremely limited."

"Keep tracking the Maquis ship. They know this part of the badlands better than we do."

"They're turning off suddenly."

"Stay with them."

"Do we really want to end up on the same planet they land on?" McIntyre interjected.

"We don't have a choice. We'll never find an M-class planet on our own in time. They know every nook and cranny of this place."

"Changing course to follow the path of the Maquis ship." McIntyre reported in a tone that made it clear she didn't agree with this action.

"I'm now reading an M-class planet, directly ahead. The Maquis ship is headed straight for it."

"Scan for a safe place to set down."

"The Maquis ship has entered the atmosphere," Jenna reported. "I'm reading stable ground ahead." She rattled off a series of coordinates, and McIntyre adjusted to compensate. "We're now entering the atmosphere. Adjust your trajectory to -"

"Jenna!" Tasha yelled warningly as the console started sparking. Jenna managed to turn her head and get her arm up, but the force of the explosion still threw her to the floor. McIntyre started to rise but Tasha stopped her short.

"Stay with the helm," she ordered as she got out of her seat to check on the lieutenant. She had second- and third-degree burns on her right arm and side from the explosion and the impact had knocked her unconscious and broken several ribs on her left side. Tasha knew there was a chance of internal bleeding but she couldn't diagnose that right then.

"This may be a rough landing," McIntyre warned. "We're coming down much too fast. Attempting to compensate but the helm is sluggish."

"Strap yourself in, Ensign." Tasha didn't even wait for the pilot to acknowledge the order before she lifted Jenna into one of the passenger's seats and strapped her down. She threw herself into the other seat and snapped on her own harness. She had never been so glad that the most recent class of shuttles had this particular safety modification.

The crash landing was exactly that: somewhere between a crash and a landing. McIntyre managed to set the ship down at perfect trajectory, but they were going way too fast and the shuttle bounced several meters back into the air.

"Brace yourself, Ensign!" Unlike the passenger seats, which had full harnesses, the pilot's seat had only a waist restraint in order to avoid obstructing the pilot's necessary range of movement. McIntyre lowered her head and raised her arms to brace against the console. The shuttle impacted and bounced again, came down, bounced a third time, made an unbalanced landing, and spun out. They hit something massive which checked their spin but crushed the back end of the shuttle. It lurched but mercifully stayed right-side-up.

When they were finally still, Tasha unstrapped her harness. Jenna had yet to regain consciousness and McIntyre still had her head down, clearly paralyzed with fear. Tasha walked up to the pilot and knelt down next to her.

"Ensign." No response. "Ensign McIntyre." Still nothing. "Loretta. Listen to me."

She didn't speak, but Tasha saw that she stirred a little when she was addressed by her given name.

"It's all right. The shuttle is down and it's not moving. You're not in any danger."

Slowly, she sat up. "Sorry."

"A first crash can be frightening." Tasha didn't want the woman beating herself up over her reaction. "Now come on, we need to get out of here."

But that was easier said than done. The impact that had destroyed the back end had shifted the whole structure of the shuttle and the door wouldn't open. Neither would the emergency hatch, and even at a glance Tasha could tell that the transporter system was damaged beyond repair.

"McIntyre, is the subspace communicator operational?"

"Affirmative, Commander. By some miracle. But our range is still limited by the plasma storm activity."

"Set it to transmit on all frequencies, maximum output. Take it from life support if you have to, the air here is breathable."

"I'll need to reconfigure the power systems manually."

"I'll help you." Tasha hurried over to one of the panels, trying not to remember how much she hated being trapped in small spaces.

"Okay, I've got it," McIntyre said after a few minutes.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Tasha Yar aboard the Federation shuttlecraft _Kepler_ calling anyone who can hear me. Our craft is down and damaged beyond repair and we have injured personnel. Please respond." She turned to McIntyre. "Set that to continuous repeat until we get a response."

"Yes, Commander." Both of them jumped as they heard a banging from outside the shuttle. "What was that?"

"Not what," Tasha replied, "who. Hello?" she called out.

"Is everyone all right in there?" a faint voice called from outside.

"I have an injured officer and we can't get out!" she shouted back.

"Your shuttle's badly dented. We're going to have to cut through the roof. Stay as far to the back as you can."

"Acknowledged." Tasha removed Jenna from her seat and the three members of the shuttle crew crouched in the damaged aft section as a large chunk of the ceiling fell in.

"We can help you out one at a time." Their rescuer no longer needed to shout now that there wasn't a wall between them.

"Ensign, help me hand Lieutenant D'Sora up to them." The two of them were able to lift Jenna until the man could get a grip on her arms.

"Careful, she's unconscious and injured!" Tasha warned. As they watched, a second silhouette cast its shadow into the opening, and she saw a pair of hands take Jenna's legs. Two sets of footsteps left. One returned a few moments later.

"This is going to be a little more tricky," Tasha mumbled. "All right, McIntyre, you ever ridden a horse before?"

"Uh, no." She gave Tasha a look that suggested she thought her superior officer had lost it.

"That's okay, just do what I say. I need you stand here and to bend your left leg at the knee - no, just the knee, so your calf is parallel to the floor. And you up there, I need you to reach your hand down as far as you safely can - keep in mind you'll need to pull the weight of another person." Tasha bent down, putting both her hands under McIntyre's raised lower leg. "On the count of three, I want you to jump with your right leg. I'll give you a boost on your other leg, which should get you up high enough to grab his hand. Remember, timing is everything."

"Understood."

"Okay, then. One, two, _three_."

To McIntyre's credit, she didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. She pushed off hard even as Tasha's assist gave her enough height to take hold of the dangling hand. Even as the stranger helped pull the Ensign out, Tasha was searching for a suitable piece of equipment for the final rescue. She found a length of spare cable that would work, as well as the shuttle's medkit and emergency rations, which she thought they might need; she had realized, though she was quite sure McIntyre had not, that these people weren't a rescue party, nor were they natives of the planet. They were the crew of the other downed ship.

Tasha heard McIntyre's boots striking the hull and then heard the sound fading and she hurried over to the opening. "I'm tossing up a length of cable. Grab it and then send one end back down here."

It took a couple of missed catches, but eventually he had one end of the cable and she had the other. "I'm attaching our medkit and emergency rations to the cable. Haul them up and then send that back down here."

The supplies were lifted without incident, and the cable was lowered back down. Tasha tied it around her waist; she had no intention of taking any chances, especially with one crewmember already injured. "Okay, lift!"

He began to pull her up even as she minimized his workload by climbing hand-over-hand. It was less than two minutes before he was able to take hold of her arm and hoist her out.

Now that she was out of the shuttle, she could take stock of their rescuers. The man was a little shy of two meters and sturdily built, darker-skinned and black-haired, with a tattoo over his left eye.

Nearby stood a smaller woman with short brown hair. She had ridges similar to those Tasha saw nearly every day on her second-in-command, but they weren't nearly as defined, and Tasha guessed that the woman was probably half-Klingon like her friend K'Ehleyr had been. Beside her was another woman, dark-haired and gray-eyed, her ridged nose showing her to be Bajoran. And the fourth, who was kneeling beside Jenna -

Her jaw dropped. Her first thought was that she had to be mistaken. But no, there was no mistaking that silhouette, the features she knew so well, the features of a man who had been there for her through it all.

"I apologize for this accident," the leader (or so Tasha assumed) said. "We didn't intend to harm anyone, just to shake pursuit."

McIntyre realized for the first time who they were dealing with and turned to confront the man, only to be silenced by a glare from Tasha.

"My name is Chakotay. This is my engineer, B'Elanna Torres." He indicated the Klingon. "My second-in-command, Seska." That was the Bajoran. "And this is my tactical officer, Tuvok."

The Vulcan's eyes swept over the two other Starfleet officers. He gave no indication at all that he'd ever seen either of them. McIntyre, for her part, was giving all four a death glare.

This was _not_ going to be an enjoyable experience.

xxxxxxxxx

Tuvok was a Maquis, and almost worse, from her perspective, he was pretending he didn't know her. Seska was hiding something, Tasha was certain of it. And Chakotay - there was _something_ about Chakotay that was nagging at her, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"Tasha."

She started. She'd been so deep in thought she hadn't heard the Vulcan approach.

"Where is your Ensign?"

"With my Lieutenant."

"I see that my reading of the situation was correct. You are displeased with me."

"_How could you_?" The anger she'd been suppressing boiled to the surface. "You were my first tie to Starfleet, and now you've gone and abandoned it!"

She noticed that Tuvok looked behind himself before responding, and when he did it was much more quietly. "All is not as it appears to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please, speak more softly. I do not wish to call attention to us. In answer to your question, I never abandoned Starfleet."

"Then what do you call this?"

"A mission."

It hit her, and she immediately relaxed. "You're an undercover operative."

"Yes."

"You're very good. I didn't suspect a thing."

"That is the intention."

"Well, yes. But usually I can tell when people around me are hiding something. I didn't pick up on anything from you."

"From me." He noticed she had stressed those last words oddly.

"You're not the only spy in this outfit. At least not if my instincts are right, and they've never been wrong before."

"Who?" He was speaking so softly she had to lean in to hear him.

She responded in the same volume. "Seska."

"She is a Starfleet operative?"

"Not Starfleet, at least I don't think so. Remember, I have no real proof she's a spy either. It's all intuition."

"I have learned to trust your intuition."

He was rewarded with a smile from her. "I'm not saying you should go confront her or anything. She'll only deny it, and you have no proof. Just keep an eye on her."

"I am curious. Why does it concern you that the Maquis may have been infiltrated?"

"Because we don't know what the infiltrators intend. And I don't want to see you hurt."

"Your concern is unwarranted."

"I know, I know. Just take care of yourself."

"With your abilities, you would be a good choice should Starfleet require another operative."

"No, Tuvok. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

"Then perhaps you could tell me what skills you use to tell a spy from someone who is not."

"Why? I just said they don't work on you."

"I suspect another member of our group may also be a Starfleet spy."

Tasha frowned. "Is your group particularly wanted or powerful?"

"More than some others but it is not distinctive."

"Then why would Starfleet assign two operatives? It seems like an inefficient strategy."

"I believe the same thing. However, Starfleet is often illogical in their thinking."

"What makes you think this other person is a spy?"

"He is - or was - a Starfleet officer from a prominent Starfleet family. He was in an accident that Starfleet ruled was caused by a malfunction. However, several months later, he came forward and confessed to having caused the accident and subsequently lied about it."

Tasha's eyes went wide as it hit her what it was about Chakotay that had been nagging at her. _He went with a man with a tattoo._

"He was forced to resign. Shortly afterward, Chakotay found him in a bar. He had been known as an exemplary pilot and Chakotay wanted his skills. He joined eagerly, claiming he had a score to settle with them regarding one of his cousins."

"Oh, God, no," she mumbled.

"What?"

She swallowed before turning back to Tuvok. "Tom Paris is not a Starfleet spy."

"How did you know -?"

"I know Tom, and I know his story. I was the first person he told the truth to about the accident."

"Are you certain that it was not a ploy? A trick to convince you of his sincerity?"

"Tuvok, why did you tell me you're a spy?"

He was nonplussed by the apparently random comment, but answered anyway. "I trust you absolutely. I know that you are aware of this situation and would do nothing to compromise my position."

"Exactly. Tom trusts me as much as you do. He'd have no reason to lie to me. Besides, he can't fool me as well as you can. If he had been trying to trick me, I'd have known. Everything he told you is true."

"I am quite certain that is not so. After he joined, I investigated his claim regarding his cousin. The only Paris to ever have a personal encounter with Cardassian forces was his father."

"You weren't looking in the right place."

"I traced the lines of both his mother and father and their siblings. According to Mr. Paris, his cousin was a Starfleet officer. He has no cousins in Starfleet at this time."

"Like I said, you were looking in the wrong place. You assumed he meant first cousins." She drew a deep breath. "I'm a Paris on my mother's side. My mother was Admiral Paris' cousin. And the incident that led to me being mistakenly declared dead involved an encounter with Cardassian forces."

"And he was aware of this?"

She nodded. "The person who notified him of my supposed death told him it had happened in Cardassian space. Because of his father, he knew they torture prisoners. Once he'd put that much together, he got the rest out of me."

Tuvok had been around for enough of the war to suspect what 'the rest' was. He knew, having been on rescue missions, what the Cardassians did to female prisoners, and - though it was completely illogical - it hurt him. He gently rested his hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry."

"So you know."

"Yes."

"You wanted to know why I couldn't be an operative like you are. The answer is that I don't know if I could handle it." Her blue eyes shimmered with tears. "I can't be in the same room with a Cardassian male without being uneasy, unless it's the one man who showed me the tiniest speck of compassion during my captivity. And I know it's wrong, but I hate them for that. How long before my allegiance to the Maquis stopped being an act? In my deepest thoughts, I already sympathize with them. I can't take that chance."

"No, of course not." He pulled her into his chest, remembering that this action had served to calm her in the past. He could feel that she was trembling.

When he hugged her, it brought all the day's emotions to the surface. The horror she felt at finding that her friend had joined the Maquis, the lingering terror from her months-old attack, the concern for her friend and fellow officer, even the anxiety she had felt when she was trapped in the shuttle, all spilled over at once, and she was crying into his shoulder. He rubbed her back firmly with one hand, planting the other firmly on the back of her head and attempting to transfer a sense of calm and logic to her. He didn't know if it was that transference or just the contact, but she quickly pulled herself together.

"Thanks for letting me do that."

He only nodded in response.

"Commander!"

Tasha immediately jumped back from Tuvok. Fortunately, she managed to do so before McIntyre came into visual range.

"We've got a response on our communicator. It's the _Bradbury. _They're three hours away, but they said they'll swing by and pick us up."

"Great. Tell them to have medical personnel on standby."

"Yes, sir. Can I have a word with you?"

"Of course." She joined the Ensign in walking back to the shuttle.

"Why were you talking to _him_?"

"Who?"

"That Maquis."

Tasha wasn't about to tell McIntyre that Tuvok was an old friend, and she certainly wasn't going to blow his cover, even to one of her own officers. So she told the other half of the truth. "Just because they're on a different side of this war doesn't make them evil. They're as much people as we are, fighting against a decree that, from their perspective, stripped many them of all they had without even asking. I know there are a lot of Cardassian war veterans in Starfleet who wish the Cardassians had been punished more harshly.

"And you? What's your perspective?"

"I'm loyal to Starfleet, and if they make a decree, I've taken an oath to uphold it and I will. That doesn't mean I like it."

"You sympathize with the Maquis?"

"I understand their reasons, if I disagree with their methods. Ensign, being in Starfleet doesn't mean blindly agreeing with everything the Federation does. And I'll let you know that when I was an Academy-fresh Ensign, I believed the same thing you do now. It's a process. I just want to be sure you don't stop that process before it starts."

McIntyre half-smiled. "Yes, Commander."

xxxxxxxxx

Medics took Jenna from Tasha as soon as they materialized on the transporter pad, and the _Bradbury_'s captain pulled her aside.

"What happened to the Maquis ship you were pursuing?"

"They crashed too. Their personnel were picked up by one of their own ships about half an hour ago."

"Captain to bridge. Look for residual energy signatures from other ships. There was a Maquis cruiser in this area recently."

"Captain," Tasha protested, "I don't think -"

"Commander, you've done an excellent job to this point. But I'll take over from here."

It wasn't fifteen minutes before the bridge crew reported that they'd recovered a small craft, but there was only one occupant aboard. And when she heard the name of the occupant, Tasha's blood nearly froze. _And I thought this day couldn't get worse_.

xxxxxxxxx

The brig was empty except for the one occupant and the guard, who Tasha quickly dismissed. The man behind the forcefield was sitting with his head down and didn't notice her approach. She had to swallow several times before she could force her voice to form his name.

"Tom?"

His head snapped up. Blue eyes met blue. "Tasha. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Why?" she asked him. "Why did you do this?"

"Don't you know?"

"I know you think you're doing it for me. But I never asked you to do anything for me."

"You never ask for anything, Tasha. That's your problem. You're so selfless. With people like you, other people have to do things without being asked."

"I didn't _want_ you to."

"Oh, come on Tasha. You don't feel any desire to get back at the bastards who hurt you?"

"Of course I do! I hate them, Tom! Is that what you want to hear? I hate them!" Silent tears slid down her face. "But I don't want you or anyone else getting in trouble trying to get my revenge for me."

"Tasha -"

"Why?" she asked again.

"Because I was angry. Angry at myself, angry at my dad, angry at Starfleet, and angry at the Cardassians. And the Cardassians were the most legitimate target. Tasha, from the moment you told me what those - creatures did to you, I've wanted to kill them. The anger I felt towards everything and everyone else just gave me what I needed to actually do it. I'm sorry, Tasha. Really, I am."

"I know you are." Her fingers raised, nearly touching the forcefield that separated them. On the other side, Tom did the same thing.

"I'll probably go to prison for this."

Tasha nodded. "I know. But that won't be forever. When you get out, I'll be waiting for you."

Tom gave what sounded suspiciously like a laugh, causing Tasha to look at him oddly.

"You know," he said softly, "if it hadn't been for an idiot engineering cadet almost getting us killed, I'd have missed out on the best friend I've ever had."

She couldn't help smiling too. "And I'd have missed out on finding all that's left of my family."

"If it wasn't for the almost getting killed part, I'd be thanking her."

"I might thank her anyway."

"Commander," the security officer said from the door, "your time's just about up."

"Tom," she said, "when all this is over, let's meet somewhere for lunch."

He grinned. "Yeah," he said, "let's do that."

**Wow. The last full-length chapter of this story. There will be an epilogue but it'll have to wait since, as I mentioned before, I want to finish this one and **_**Big Doors**_** and start the sequel all on the same day.**

**For anyone who doesn't read _Big Doors_, I've made Jenna D'Sora into just another security officer who is Tasha's friend. I have never subscribed to the concept that Jenna is bratty or stuck up (Data fan though I am), so I've been using her instead of creating an original character.  
**

**Special brownie points to anyone who can figure out where I got Ensign McIntyre's name from. Four hints: it's from a non-Star Trek TV show, said show began three years after TOS ended and ended four years before TNG started, her first name is the name of the only female ACTRESS in the regular cast, and her last name is the name of a male CHARACTER who was a regular in the first three seasons of the show. In case anyone wants a challenge.**

**Please review.**


	30. Chapter Thirty: Epilogue

**Perfectly Logical**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Thirty: Epilogue**_

Tasha hadn't been off-shift for five minutes when her comm channel rang. "Yes?"

"Commander Yar, you have a subspace transmission."

"From who?"

"Deep Space Nine."

"Okay, I'll take it down here." She was tired, but communications from the station had a tendency to make her feel better. Jadzia could always make her laugh, news about little Molly O'Brien was always a major uplift, and Ben Sisko - well, not many women were lucky enough to go two for two in trying to befriend their ex-boyfriends, to say nothing of getting two amazing friends. The only question was who she'd be talking to today. She lazily pressed the button and nearly fell out of her chair when she saw who was calling.

"_Tom_? What are you doing on Deep Space Nine?" He'd only served eleven months of his two-year sentence, and wasn't even up for parole for another three. "And please tell me it's legitimate."

He laughed. "Believe it or not, it is. A Starfleet Captain's setting up a mission to track a Maquis group into the badlands. She wants someone who knows the territory. In return, I get out as soon as this is over."

"Really? That's great!"

"We've already had some fun, and the mission hasn't even started yet."

"Oh? What happened?"

"I had to stop the local thief from trying to sell some ridiculously overpriced trinkets to an Academy-fresh ensign. You want a poster child for naivete -"

"I get the picture. You should tell the station security officer if Quark's trying to pull a fast one on new officers."

"I don't think he likes me. Then again, I'm sure no security officer really wants a convict on their station."

"Who, Odo? I wouldn't take it personally. He doesn't like anyone at first. Took me five days to get him just to trust me as a fellow officer. But he has a special issue with Quark. He'll jump at the chance to get that Ferengi in trouble."

"I'll take that into consideration. Anyway, the result of this encounter is that Harry Kim's being nice to me for now. Though who knows what'll happen once he finds out who I am and what I did."

"If he's a real friend, he won't care."

"Yeah, but you're the only person not in my immediate family I've ever met who doesn't care. Except, apparently, Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway? Is she related to Admiral Janeway?"

Tom frowned. "As far as I know, there is no Admiral Janeway, hasn't been for awhile."

"I knew him awhile ago. Even before I met you."

"Ah, yes. I think I remember you mentioning that to me. Her father was Admiral Janeway, an old family friend." Tasha noticed that he avoided what she suspected was the truth of their relationship: _a friend of my dad's_. "He died a couple years after we left the Academy."

"I hadn't heard that." She sighed. "At any rate, in that case I think I know your Captain's sister. At least I assume it's her sister. The young Janeway I knew had no interest in Starfleet. But she had a sister - Katie, she called her - who was a cadet."

"Our captain's first name is Kathryn," Tom supplied, confirming her guess. "Listen, Tasha, I can't stay on the line too long. I had to pull a lot of strings to get on it at all."

"I understand."

"Listen, Tasha, when I get back I'll be a free man. You know how you said we'd meet for lunch?"

"You're on. The very next time I'm back on Earth."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I'd be upset if you didn't."

"I thought you'd say that."

"I love you, Tom. And I'll see you soon."

"I'll be waiting. And I love you too."

Tasha couldn't keep the grin off her face as the comm channel closed. Things were certainly looking up for Tom Paris. And she was happy for him.

**The End**

**Short, I know, but it puts this storyline right where I want it for the start of the sequel. By the time you read this, Chapter One of said sequel will be up. It's called **_**To The Journey **_**and can be found on my page.**

**The answer to last chapter's challenge question was the TV show "M*A*S*H." The actress in question was Loretta Swit (portraying Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan) and the character was "Trapper" John McIntyre (played by Wayne Rogers). Props to the one person who got it!**

**Thanks to all 84 reviews (plus however many I get for this chapter) and thanks to everyone for sticking with me through all thirty chapters.  
**

**Please review.**


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